THE  FAMOUS  MRS.  FAIR 


By  JAMES  FORBES 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  St.,  New  York 


MRS.  PARTRIDGE  PRESENTS 

Comedy  in  3  acts.  By  Mary  Kennedy  and  Euth  Haw 
thorne.  6  males,  6  females.  Modern  costumes.  2  interiors 
Plays  2y<t  hours. 

The  characters,  scenes  and  situations  are  tnorougnly  up-t« 
date  in  this  altogether  delightful  American  comedy.  The  heroine 
§8  a  woman  of  tremendous  energy,  who  manages  a  business — &P 
she  manages  everything — with  great  success,  and  at  home  pre- 
aides  over  the  destinies  of  a  growing  son  and  daughter.  Her 
struggle  to  give  the  children  the  opportunities  she  herself  had 
missed,  and  the  children's  ultimate  revolt  against  her  well-meant 
management — that  is  the  basis  of  the  plot.  The  son  who  is  cast 
for  the  part  of  artist  and  the  daughter  who  is  to  go  on  the  stage 
offer  numerous  opportunities  for  the  development  of  the  comic 
possibilities  in  the  theme. 

The  play  is  one  of  the  most  delightful,  yet  thought-provoking 
American  comedies  of  recent  years,  and  is  warmly  recommended 
to  all  amateur  groups.  (Royalty  on  application.)  Price,  75  Cents. 


IN  THE  NEXT  ROOM 

Melodrama  in  3  acts.  By  Eleanor  Kobson  and  Harriet 
Ford.  8  males,  3  females.  2  interiors.  Modern  costumes, 
Plays  2*4  hours. 

"Philip  Vantine  has  bought  a  rare  copy  of  an  original  Boul© 
cabinet  and  ordered  it  shipped  to  his  New  York  home  from  Paris, 
"When  it  arrives  it  is  found  to  be  the  original  itself,  the  pos 
session  of  which  is  desired  by  many  strange  people.  Before  th» 
mystery  concerned  with  the  cabinet's  shipment  can  be  cleared 
up,  two  persons  meet  mysterious  death  fooling  with  it  and  th» 
happiness  of  many  otherwise  happy  actors  is  threatened"  (Burns 
Mantle).  A  first-rate  mystery  play,  comprising  all  the  element? 
of  suspense,  curiosity,  comedy  and  drama.  "In  the  Next  Boom" 
is  quite  easy  to  stage.  It  can  be  unreservedly  recommended  to 
high  schools  and  colleges,  (Royalty,  twenty-five  doiiara.} 

Price,  T5 


SAMUEL  FRENCH.  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
Our   New   Catalocne  Will   Be   Sent   on   Becwipt  *f   Five   €>»t*. 


The  Famous  Mrs.  Fair 


A   PLAY  IN   FOUR   ACTS 


BY 
JAMES    FORBES 


COPYRIGHT,  1919,  BY  JAMES  FORBES 
COPYRIGHT,  1920,  BY  GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


All  Rights  Reserved 


CAUTION  —  Professionals  and  amateurs  are  hereby 
warned  that  "THE  FAMOUS  MRS.  FAIR,"  being 
fully  protected  under  the  copyright  laws  of  the  United 
States  and  Great  Britain,  is  subject  to  a  royalty  and 
anyone  presenting  the  play  without  the  consent  of  the 
owner  or  his  authorized  agents  will  be  liable  to  the 
penalties  by  law  provided.  Application  for  amateur 
acting  rights  must  be  made  to  SAMUEL  FRENCH  25 
West  45th  Street,  New  York. 


New  York:  London: 

SAMUEL  FRENCH  SAMUEL  FRENCH,  Lm 

Publisher  26  Southampton  Street 

25  West  45th  Street  Strand 


"The  Famous  Mrs.  Fair" 
All  rights  reserved 


Especial  notice  should  be  taken  that  the  possession  of 
this  book  without  a  valid  contract  for  production  first 
having  been  obtained  from  the  publisher,  confers  no  right 
or  license  to  professionals  or  amateurs  to  produce  the  play 
publicly  or  in  private  for  gain  or  charity. 

In  its  present  form  this  play  is  dedicated  to  the  reading 
public  only,  and  no  performance,  representation,  produc 
tion,  recitation,  or  public  reading,  or  radio  broadcasting 
may  be  given  except  by  special  arrangement  with  Samuel 
French,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York. 

This  play  may  be  presented  by  amateurs  upon  payment 
of  a  royalty  of  Twenty-Five  Dollars  for  each  performance, 
payable  to  Samuel  French,  25  West  45th  Street,  New 
York,  one  week  before  the  date  when  the  play  is  given. 

Whenever  the  play  is  produced  the  following  notice  must 
appear  on  all  programs,  printing  and  advertising  for  the 
play:  "Produced  by  special  arrangement  with  Samuel 
French  of  New  York." 

Attention  is  called  to  the  penalty  provided  by  law  for 
any  infringement  of  the  author's  rights,  as  follows: 

"SECTION  4966: — Any  person  publicly  performing  or  rep 
resenting  any  dramatic  or  musical  composition  for  which 
copyright  has  been  obtained,  without  the  consent  of  the 
proprietor  of  said  dramatic  or  musical  composition,  or  his 
heirs  and  assigns,  shall  be  liable  for  damages  thereof,  such; 
damages,  in  all  cases  to  be  assessed  at  such  sum,  not  less 
than  one  hundred  dollars  for  the  first  and  fifty  dollars  for 
every  subsequent  performance,  as  to  the  court  shall  appear 
to  be  just.  If  the  unlawful  performance  and  representation' 
be  wilful  and  for  profit,  such  person  or  persons  shall  be' 
guilty  of  a  misdemeanor,  and  upon  conviction  shall  be  im 
prisoned  for  a  period  not  exceeding  one  year." — U.  S. 
Revised  Statutes:  Title  60,  Chap.  3. 


THE  PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY 


JEFFREY  FAIR 
NANCY  FAIR 
ALAN  FAIR 
SYLVIA  FAIR 
PEGGY  GIBBS 
ANGELICA  BRICE 
E.  DUDLEY  GILLETTE 
NORA 

MRS.  GILBERT  WELLS 
MRS.  LESLIE  CONVERSE 
MRS.  KELLETT  BROWN 
MRS.  NORMAN  WYNNE 
MRS.  STUART  PERRIN 


The  Scenes  of  the  First  and  Second  Acts  are  laid 
at  the  home  of  JEFFREY  FAIR  on  Long-  Island,  in  the 
months  of  May  and  June;  the  occurrences  of  the 
succeeding  acts  take  place  in  his  apartments  in  a  New 
York  hotel  during  an  evening  in  October. 


f~    296 


THE  FAMOUS  MRS.  FAIR 

Original  cast,  as  first  presented  at  the  Henry  Miller 
Theatre,  New  York,  December  22,  1919 

It  is  arranged  in  the  order  in   which  they  first 
appear. 

SYLVIA  FAIR Margalo  Gillmore 

ALAN  FAIR Jack  Devereaux 

NORA    Betty  Hall 

E.  DUDLEY  GILLETTE Robert  Strange 

ANGELICA  BRICE Virginia  Hammond 

NANCY  FAIR Blanche  Bates 

JEFFREY  FAIR Henry  Miller 

MRS.  NORMAN  WYNNE Dallas  Tyler 

MRS.  KELLETT  BROWN  Marian  Lord 

MRS.  STUART  PERRIN Maude  Allan 

MRS.  LESLIE  CONVERSE Alice  Baxter 

MRS.  GILBERT  WELLS Florence  Williams 

PEGGY  GIBBS Kathleen  Comegys 


The  Famous  Mrs.  Fair 


THE  FIRST  ACT 

The  living-room  of  JEFFREY  FAIR'S  home  on  Long 
Island.  The  walls  are  panelled  and  painted  in 
soft  tones ;  at  the  left  is  a  fireplace,  at  the  right 
a  door  into  a  hall,  and  at  the  back  three  French 
windows  opening  onto  a  terrace,  beyond  which 
is  a  vista  of  wooded  hills.  The  room  is  charm 
ingly  and  luxuriously  furnished,  everything  de 
noting  wealth  and  refinement.  A  large  table 
with  a  lamp,  ^vriting  materials,  photographs, 
books  and  bowls  of  flowers  is  at  the  right.  Be 
hind  it  is  a  chair  and  in  front  of  it  a  couch.  Be 
tween  the  windows  are  consoles  and,  on  either 
side  of  them,  small  chairs.  In  the  corner  of  the 
room  is  a  lacquer  cabinet.  There  are  two  large 
wing  chairs,  one  in  front  of  the  fireplace,  the 
other  against  the  left  wall  below  the  fireplace. 
Bowls  and  vases  of  flowers  are  in  every  avail 
able  place,  giving  a  festive  aspect  to  the  room. 
Above  the  centre  window  is  a  floral  piece  fash 
ioned  of  laurel  and  red,  white  and  blue  flowers', 
in  the  centre  the  words  "Welcome  Home  Our 
Heroine''  at  the  base  red,  white  and  blue  rib 
bons  fastened  with  a  cockade  and  projecting 
from  its  upper  corners  are  miniature  flags  of 
the  United  States,  Great  Britain  and  France. 

SYLVIA  FAIR  is  coming  from  the  garden  through  the 
sunshine  of  a  May  morning.  In  a  simple  ging- 
5 


6  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

ham  dress  with  her  hair  hanging  in  a  golden 
cloud  about  her  shoulders,  her  arms  filled  with 
lilacs,  she  is  a  radiant  picture  of  sweet,  un 
spoiled  girlhood,  not  at  all  the  usual  modern 
miss  of  eighteen.  She  runs  up  the  steps  and 
into  the  room,  where  she  flits  about  arranging 
the  flowers,  humming  the  air  of  a  gay  little 
song.  Her  task  completed,  she  stands  looking 
at  the  result  with  joyful  satisfaction  when  the 
voice  of  ALAN  FAIR  is  heard  outside  in  the  hall. 

ALAN.     (Calling)     Oh,  Sylvia! 
SYLVIA.    Yes,  Alan. 

(ALAN   FAIR,  a  fine  example  of  American  youth, 
comes  in  hurriedly.) 

ALAN.    Hello,  Sis. 

SYLVIA.     Hello,  Alan! 

ALAN.    Mother  not  here  yet? 

SYLVIA.  No.  But  she  will  be  any  moment.  The 
boat  docked  an  hour  ago. 

ALAN.    Did  you  get  in  touch  with  Dad  ? 

SYLVIA.  Yes.  Last  night  as  soon  as  I  received 
the  wireless. 

ALAN.    Why  didn't  you  meet  mother? 

SYLVIA.  They  won't  let  you  on  the  pier  without 
an  alibi  or  something. 

ALAN.     Hello!     Give  me  John  6780! 

SYLVIA.    What  are  you  going  to  do? 

ALAN.  'Phone  Peggy.  I  motored  her  in  this 
morning.  Tire  went  bad.  She  was  afraid  I  wouldn't 
be  here  in  time. 

SYLVIA.  I  wonder  why  mother  didn't  cable  that 
she  had  changed  from  the  French  Line  to  the  Olym 
pic? 

ALAN.     Oh,  hello!     Is  this  6780  John?     I'd  like 


THE  FAMOUS  MRS.  FAIR  7 

to  speak  to  Miss  Gibbs.  (To  SYLVIA,)  Say,  but 
you're  going  to  be  a  big  surprise  to  mother. 

SYLVIA.  Yes.  Two  years  makes  a  lot  of  differ 
ence  in  a  woman. 

ALAN.    You !    You're  only  a  kid. 

SYLVIA.     Why,  I'm  eighteen  ! 

ALAN.  Oh,  hello !  Is  that  you,  Peggy  ?  Yes,  I 
got  here  in  time.  Boat's  docked. 

SYLVIA.    Give  Peggy  my  love. 

ALAN.  Sylvia  says  to  give  you  her  love.  That 
goes  double  for  me.  Oh,  that's  all  right.  I'm  go 
ing  to  tell  Sylvia.  No,  I  won't  say  a  word  to  any 
one  else.  I  promise. 

(SYLVIA,  astonished,  goes  to  ALAN  and  suddenly 
reaches  over,  turns  the  transmitter  towards  her 
self  and  talks  into  it.) 

SYLVIA.  Oh,  Peggy,  I've  been  hoping  you  were 
going  to  be  my  sister-in-law. 

ALAN.  (Greatly  surprised)  Why,  how  did  you 
know? 

SYLVIA.  (Taking  the  telephone  from  ALAN^ 
Peggy,  Alan  wants  to  know  how  I  knew.  Isn't  that 
funny?  When  did  you  say  "yes"?  Last  night? 
(ALAN  is  impatiently  trying  to  take  the  telephone 
from  SYLVIAJ  I'm  so  glad.  Yes,  I'm  awfully  ex 
cited.  I  can  hardly  wait  until  mother  gets  here. 

ALAN.  (Grabbing  the  telephone)  Good-bye,  dar 
ling  !  Don't  get  so  fresh !  What  number  do  I  want? 
You've  cut  me  off !  (ALAN  irritably  moves  receiver 
hook  up  and  down.  SYLVIA,  laughing,  takes  the 
telephone  from  ALAN  and  puts  it  on  the  table.  ALAN 
goes  sulkily  to  the  armchair.) 

ALAN.  How  did  you  know  I  was  in  love  with 
Peggy? 

SYLVIA.  (Coming  to  him)  Oh,  you  weren't  run 
ning  up  to  Connecticut  every  other  minute  since 
you've  been  demobilised  to  see  your  "buddy,"  even 


8  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

if  he  is  as  nice  a  one  as  Tom  Gibbs.  Why,  the  very 
first  time  I  met  Peggy,  I  knew. 

ALAN.     I  didn't  know  it  myself  then.     (Pie  sits.) 

SYLVIA.  (Leaning  over  the  back  of  the  chair) 
Are  you  going  to  tell  mother  and  daddy? 

ALAN.     Not  right  away. 

SYLVIA.  Afraid  they  won't  like  your  marrying 
beneath  you? 

ALAN.    Where  do  you  get  that  stuff? 

SYLVIA.  Peggy  is  a  stenographer,  and  you  are  the 
son  of  Jeffrey  Fair. 

ALAN.  Yes,  and  Peggy's  been  self-supporting  and, 
except  what  Uncle  Sam  paid  me,  I've  never  earned 
a  nickel.  Marrying  beneath  me!  I'm  marrying 
above  me. 

SYLVIA.  (Sitting  on  the  arm  of  the  chair)  I  hope 
they  think  so.  Of  course,  mother's  been  helping  for 
four  years  to  save  the  world  for  Democracy.  I  sup 
pose  that's  made  her  democratic,  and  daddy  has  no 
use  for  his  ancestors.  Still,  it's  going  to  be  an  awful 
shock  to  everyone  here. 

ALAN.  I  should  worry  about  shocking  the  neigh 
bors. 

SYLVIA.    Then  why  keep  it  a  secret? 

ALAN.  Peggy  thinks  it  might  spoil  the  family 
reunion  for  mother  if  I — well,  spring  a  new  member 
on  her. 

SYLVIA.  That's  very  thoughtful,  very  sweet  of 
Peggy. 

ALAN.  Everything  about  her  is  sweet.  I'm  crazy 
about  the  whole  family.  They  have  the  homiest  kind 
of  a  home.  You  know,  at  night  Mrs.  Gibbs  sewing 
and  Mr.  Gibbs  reading  his  paper  and  a  bowl  of  apples 
on  the  table. 

SYLVIA.  Of  course,  an  apple  at  night  would  give 
me  the  pip,  but  it  must  be  lovely. 

ALAN.    It  would  be  great  if  you  liked  Tom. 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  9 

SYLVIA.  Oh,  Alan,  I  don't  believe  I  could  marry 
a  policeman. 

ALAN.  He's  not  a  policeman.  He's  a  detective 
and  the  best  pal.  Sylvia,  you're  not  going  to  be  a 
rotten  snob  about  a  man  who  fought  for  you,  side 
by  side  with  your  own  brother  ? 

SYLVIA.  You  know  I'm  not  a  snob.  I  love  Peggy 
and  I  like  Tom.  But  I  can't  marry  all  the  men  who 
fought  for  me.  I  don't  want  to  marry,  anyway.  All 
I  want  to  do  is  get  acquainted  again  with  my  mother. 

(NORA,  a  housemaid,  enters.) 
NORA.    Mr.  Alan,  a  gentleman  to  see  you. 

(ALAN  takes  the  card,  looks  at  it.) 

SYLVIA.    Why,  Nora,  we  can't  see  anyone  to-day. 

NORA.  That's  what  I  told  him.  It's  something  to 
do  with  your  mother. 

SYLVIA.     (Going  to  ALAN,)     Who  is  he? 
^  ALAN.      (Reading)      "E.   Dudley   Gillette  of   the 
Gillette  Lecture  Bureau." 

NORA.     He  says  it's  very  important. 

ALAN.     Show  him  in. 

SYLVIA.    What  can  he  want? 

ALAN.  (Reading)  "Business  Representative  for 
Tommy  Perkins,  the  Flying  Ace;  Montague  Trav- 
ers,  War  Correspondent."  Seems  to  specialize  in 
war  heroes. 

SYLVIA.  I'll  bet  he's  selling  tickets.  (She  sits  in 
the  armchair.) 

(NORA  shows  in  E.  DUDLEY  GILLETTE,  a  man  of 
thirty -five,  of  good  appearance  and  address,  but 
not  a  gentleman.  His  manner  is  over-suave,  his 
clothes  too  correct.) 


io  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

GILLETTE.    Good  morning,  Captain  Fair. 

ALAN.    No,  just  plain  Mr.  Fair  now. 

GILLETTE.  (Bowing  to  SYLVIA,)  I  hope  you'll 
excuse  this  intrusion — (To  ALANJ — but  I  have 
something  here  for  Major  Fair  that  was  too  im 
portant  to  entrust  to  a -messenger,  as  I  want  her  to 
receive  it  immediately  on  her  arrival.  (He  takes 
from  his  pocket  an  envelope  and  hands  it  to  ALAN.J 

ALAN.    Won't  you  sit  down? 

GILLETTE.    Thank  you. 

ALAN.  (Indicating  the  envelope)  Something  of 
a  confidential  nature? 

GILLETTE.  Well,  no.  It's  an  offer  to  make  a  lec 
ture  tour  of  the  country  under  my  management. 

ALAN.    A  what?    (He  opens  the  envelope.) 

SYLVIA.     Mother  lecture  ?    Oh,  how  ghastly ! 

ALAN.  (Reading  the  contract)  This  wouldn't  in 
terest  her. 

GILLETTE.  Oh,  I  don't  know.  My  London  repre 
sentative  cabled  that  she  would  give  my  offer  her 
consideration. 

ALAN.    That's  my  mother's  way  of  being  polite. 

GILLETTE.  Possibly.  Still  she  did  go  to  London 
to  see  my  man. 

ALAN.  You  know  that  mother  was  arriving  on 
the  Olympic? 

GILLETTE.  Yes,  that's  why  I  am  here.  I  wanted 
to  be  the  first  on  the  ground.  There  will  be  a  keen 
competition  for  her  among  the  lecture  bureaus. 

ALAN.     Why  ? 

GILLETTE.  The  newspapers  have  been  full  of  the 
work  done  overseas  by  Major  Fair  and  her  Unit; 
her  decoration  by  the  French  Government,  all  that 
with  her  social  position  here 

SYLVIA.  (Indignantly)  Why,  I  think  it's  per 
fectly  awful  of  you  or  anyone  else  to  think  that  our 
mother  is  going  around  the  country  showing  off  her 
Croix  de  Guerre. 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  11 

ALAN.  Mother  has  no  desire  to  boast  of  her  work. 
There  is  not  the  slightest  use  leaving  this.  (He  re 
places  the  contracts  in  the  envelope,  which  he  offers 
to  GILLETTE,  who  rises.) 

GILLETTE.  Because  her  family  wouldn't  permit 
her  to  accept  it  ? 

ALAN.  (Snubbing  him)  My  mother  makes  her 
own  decisions. 

GILLETTE.  (Very  suavely)  Then  why  can't  I 
leave  it  for  her? 

ALAN.     (Coldly)     No  reason. 

GILLETTE.    Well,  then 

(ALAN  looks  at  GILLETTE,  then,  turning  away,  places 
the  envelope  in  the  pocket  of  his  coat.  SYLVIA 
is  looking  at  GILLETTE.  GILLETTE  looks  at  her 
interestedly,  in  fact  rather  rudely  "sizes  her  up." 
SYLVIA  is  puzzled  and  a  little  embarrassed,  being 
utterly  unaccustomed  to  that  kind  of  scrutiny. 
ALAN  turns.  GILLETTE  quickly  assumes  a 
suave  smile.) 

GILLETTE.     Thank  you.     Good  morning. 
ALAN.     Good  morning. 

(GILLETTE  goes.     SYLVIA  rises  and  runs  over  to 
ALAN.J 

SYLVIA.  (Distressed — almost  in  tears)  Oh,  Alan, 
mother  wouldn't  do  it.  Surely,  when  she's  been 
home  only  once  in  four  years  she  won't  want  to  go 
away  again. 

ALAN.  (Soothingly)  Certainly  not.  (He  puts 
his  arms  around  SYLVIA.J 

(ANGELICA  BRICE,  a  pretty  blonde  widow  in  the 
thirties,  fragile,  appealing,  essentially  feminine 


12  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

and  charmingly  gowned,  appears  at  the  door  to 
the  terrace.) 

ANGY.    Hello,  Sylvia. 

ALAN.  (Impatiently)  Oh (He  turns  away 

in  disgust.  SYLVIA  runs  to  ANGY.J 

SYLVIA.     Oh,  Angy,  darling.     Come  in. 

ANGY.  Oh,  no.  I  simply  wanted  your  mother  to 
have  this  little  welcome  from  her  next-door  neighbor. 

SYLVIA.  That's  lovely  of  you.  Come  in  and  tell 
me  if  you  think  the  place  looks  nice.  (She  takes  the 
violets,  places  them  in  a  bowl  on  the  table.  ANGY 
comes  into  the  room.  She  looks  at  the  decorations.) 

ANGY.    Oh,  it's  charming !    How  do  you  do,  Alan  ? 

ALAN.     (Coldly)     How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Brice. 

ANGY.  Oh,  it's  charming.  (She  sits  in  the  arm 
chair.  ) 

SYLVIA.  (Running  over  to  her)  I'm  so  glad 
mother  came  home  in  May.  She  loves  the  Spring 
flowers. 

ANGY.    I  suppose  your  father's  at  the  dock. 

SYLVIA.  I  hope  so.  I  had  such  a  time  getting 
him  last  night  at  Washington. 

ANGY.  Oh?  darling,  I  could  have  told  you  he'd 
be  here  to-day.  I'm  so  glad  for  you  that  your 
mother's  coming  home  at  last. 

ALAN.  (Significantly)  I'm  so  glad  for  father's 
sake.  (He  looks  meaningly  at  ANGY,  who,  although 
thoroughly  understanding  the  implication  in  his 
speech,  is  apparently  oblivious.  SYLVIA  is  wholly 
unaware  of  ANGY'S  and  ALAN'S  fencing.) 

ANGY.  He  must  have  missed  her.  Hasn't  it  been 
awfully  sporting  of  him  never  to  have  complained? 

SYLVIA.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  you,  we'd  have  died 
of  loneliness.  I'll  never  forget  how  good  you've 
been  to  me  and  daddy. 

ALAN.  Neither  will  I.  You've  tried  your  darn- 
dest  to  take  mother's  place.  And  even  if  you  haven't 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  13 

succeeded,  you've  made  a  corking  good  stab  at  it. 

ANGY.  (To  ALAN,  very  sweetly)  So  glad  you 
appreciate  it. 

ALAN.  Why,  no  one  in  this  family  appreciates 
you  as  I  do. 

SYLVIA.  (Delightedly  runs  to  ALAN)  I  knew 
you'd  like  Angy  when  you  understood  her. 

ALAN.  Why,  Sylvia,  I've  always  understood  Mrs. 
Brice.  (He  is  standing,  his  arm  about  SYLVIA,  smil 
ing  at  ANGY,  who  is  furious  with  him,  although  she 
seems  to  be  unruffled.  The  voices  of  NANCY  and 
JEFFREY  are  heard  in  the  hall.) 

NANCY.  (Outside)  Oh,  children!  Where  are 
you? 

SYLVIA.    Mother ! 

ALAN.     It's  mother! 

(They  rush  into  the  hall  calling  excitedly,  "Mother! 
Mother!"  There  is  a  babel  of  excited  greeting. 
ANGY  rises  and  retires  to  a  position  where  she 
can  watch  unobserved  the  advent  of  NANCY 
FAIR,  who  appears  presently,  between  SYLVIA 
and  ALAN,  her  arms  about  their  shoulders.  In 
her  Overseas  uniform  of  horizon  blue,  Sam 
Browne  belt^  beret  and  ribbon  of  the  Croix  de 
Guerre,  she  is  a  vividly  arresting  figure,  the  per 
sonification  of  those  American  women  brought 
into  prominence  during  the  war  because  of  their 
executive  ability,  gay  courage  and  unselfish  de 
votion.  NANCY  is  overjoyed  at  the  meeting  with 
her  children.  She  hugs  and  kisses  SYLVIA  re 
peatedly.  ALAN  is  trying  to  attract  his  mother's 
attention  and  finally  taps  her  affectionately  on 
the  shoulder.) 

ALAN.    Mother,  I  could  do  with  a  little  of  that^ 
NANCY.     Alan !    Alan ! 


i4  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.    FAIR 

(She  turns  to  him  and  he  takes  her  in  his  arms.  She 
kisses  him,  puts  him  away  from  her,  looks  at 
him  fondly,  then  embraces  him  again  and  again. 
SYLVIA  has  run  across  to  JEFFREY  FAIR,  who 
has  followed  them  and  is  watching,  happily,  the 
reunion  of  his  family.  He  is  fifty  and  repre 
sents  the  highest  type  of  the  American  man  of 
affairs.  ANGY,  coming  forward,  is  seen  by  JEF 
FREY.  He  is  slightly  startled  and  visibly  an 
noyed,  but  controlling  himself  he  bows,  smil 
ingly,  then  tries  to  attract  NANCY'S  attention.) 

JEFFREY.     Oh,  Nancy!     (NANCY  does  not  hear 

him.  He  raises  his  voice.)  Oh,  Nancy !   (NANCY 

turns  to  him.    He  indicates  ANGY.J     This  is  Mrs. 
Brice. 

(ALAN,  annoyed,  moves  away.  NANCY  turns  to 
MRS.  BRICE,  smiling,  and  is  about  to  go  to  her, 
when  SYLVIA  runs  to  ANGY  and,  taking  her  by 
the  hand,  brings  her  to  NANCY.J 

SYLVIA.    Mother,  this  is  Angy! 

NANCY.  (Very  cordially)  Oh,  you  are  Sylvia's 
Angy.  The  child's  letters  have  been  full  of  you. 
You've  been  so  kind  to  my  little  girl. 

ANGY.  (Very  sweetly)  Sylvia  and  her  father 
have  been  very  kind  to  me.  I  hadn't  meant  to  in 
trude. 

SYLVIA.  Oh,  Mother,  Angy  brought  these.  (She 
picks  up  the  bowl  of  violets,  shows  them  to  NANCY, 
who  exclaims  at  the  sight  of  them.) 

NANCY.    Oh,  how  sweet  of  you! 

ANGY.  I  must  go.  Good-bye,  Sylvia.  (She 
starts  toward  the  door  to  the  terrace.) 

NANCY.    You'll  come  again  very  soon,  won't  you  ? 

ANGY.     Oh,  I'll  be  sure  to!     (She  smiles  very 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  15 

sweetly  at  NANCY,  turns,  looks  at  JEFFREY,  waves 
her  hand  airily.)  Bye-bye,  Jeffie !  (She  goes.) 

(A   slight  pause.     NANCY  is  surprised,  amused — 
JEFFREY  annoyed,  confused.) 

NANCY.  (Imitating  ANGYJ  "Jeffie"-  (Very 

innocently.)  Darling,  have  you  been  carrying  on  a 
little  bit? 

JEFFREY.  Certainly  not.  (NANCY  laughs.  ALAN 
is  amused.  SYLVIA  oblivious.  JEFFREY,  embar 
rassed,  pretends  to  search  for  something  on  the 
table.)  Damn  it  all,  you  never  can  find  a  match  in 
this  house ! 

SYLVIA.    Here  they  are.    You  never  look. 

(JEFFREY  goes  to  SYLVIA,  who  gives  him  a  match. 
NANCY  laughs.    She  looks  about  her.) 

NANCY.    Well,  Alan,  some  swell  dugout. 

SYLVIA.    Daddy,  listen  to  mother  talking  slang. 

ALAN.    Get  our  decorations? 

NANCY.    Bless  your  hearts  !    They  are  lovely ! 

SYLVIA.     Our  decorations !    I  did  it  all. 

NANCY.  Sylvia,  that  placard's  going  it  a  bit 
strong.  Your  mother  isn't  a  heroine. 

SYLVIA.  (Expostulating)  Aren't  you  a  Major, 
and  decorated,  and  everything? 

NANCY.   (With  mock  seriousness)   'N  everything ! 

SYLVIA.  Mother,  when  you  were  given  the  Croix 
de  Guerre,  did  the  General  kiss  you  on  both  cheeks  ? 

(JEFFREY  advances  towards  them.) 

NANCY.     Ask  me  some  other  time,  darling;  your 
father  is  listening. 
JEFFREY.    If  he  didn't,  he  was  a  poor  fish! 


16  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

(NANCY  blows  him  a  kiss.) 

\ 

SYLVIA.  Poor  daddy!  When  I  think  how  you 
slaved  in  that  old  Quartermaster's  Department,  I 
don't  see  why  they  didn't  decorate  you. 

JEFFREY.  They  don't  pin  any  medals  on  you  for 
trying  to  save  the  people's  money. 

NANCY.  (Looking  about  her)  Is  all  this  mag 
nificence  mine? 

JEFFREY.    Are  you  referring  to  me? 

ALAN.    No.    She  means  me. 

NANCY.  I  mean  Sylvia.  Gracious,  child,  what 
have  you  been  taking  to  make  you  grow  ?  Jeff,  isn't 
she  the  prettiest  daughter  that  ever  was? 

JEFFREY.    Look  at  her  father. 

NANCY.  Oh,  you !  Alan,  you  look  simply  scrump 
tious! 

JEFFREY.  (Sitting  in  the  armchair)  What  about 
me? 

NANCY.  You!  You  haven't  pined  away  for  me 
at  all.  I'm  frightfully  disappointed. 

SYLVIA.     Oh,  Mother!    Why? 

NANCY.  He  should  be  pale  and  wan,  and  look  at 
him!  He's  fat,  positively  fat! 

JEFFREY.     (Indignantly)     I  am  not  fat! 

SYLVIA.     He's  not! 

NANCY.  (Laughing)  Alan,  we'll  have  to  take 
him  in  hand.  You  know— (Illustrating ) — fifty  times 
before  breakfast. 

ALAN.  (Laughs.)  Too  late.  (He  sits  on  the 
couch.) 

SYLVIA.  You  two  stop  picking  on  my  daddy.  I 
think  he's  perfectly  grand. 

NANCY.  He  has  me  hypnotized  just  that  same 
way,  darling. 

ALAN.  Yes.  Taken  by  and  large,  he's  not  a  bad 
old  scout. 

JEFFREY.    Here,  son,  my  wife  has  been  mingling 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  17 

with  the  flower  of  the  youth  of  both  hemispheres,  so 
cut  that  old. 

(NANCY  goes  to  JEFFREY,  sits  on  the  arm  of  his  chair 
and  hugs  him.) 

NANCY.    None  of  them  so  nice  as  you. 

JEFFREY.    Sure  ? 

NANCY.    Well,  pretty  sure. 

SYLVIA.     Oh,  Mother,  you  look  so  young! 

NANCY.    Nobody  ever  had  a  nicer  daughter. 

ALAN.  They've  got  to  go  some  to  tie  you,  Mother 
—eh,  Dad? 

JEFFREY.    I'll  say  it ! 

NANCY.  Such  compliments  from  my  family! 
You're  not  getting  me  in  a  good  humor  so  that  you 
can  spring  something  on  me? 

ALAN.    How  does  it  seem  to  be  home,  Mother? 

NANCY.  If  Sylvia  won't  be  shocked  by  my  lan 
guage,  I'll  confess  I'm  having  a  pippin  of  a  time! 

(JEFFREY  puts  his  arm  around  her.) 
ALAN.    You  are  going  to  find  it  awfully  flat. 

(NANCY  is  smiling.  Her  expression  changes.  She 
looks  at  ALAN  curiously.  SYLVIA  turns.  JEF 
FREY  leans  forward  in  his  chair.  They  also  look 
in  surprise  at  ALAN.) 

NANCY.    What  do  you  mean? 

JEFFREY.  (Indignantly)  Yes,  I'd  like  to  know 
what  he  means. 

SYLVIA.  Alan  !  The  idea !  She  didn't  find  it  flat 
when  she  was  here  the  last  time. 

ALAN.  Mother  was  busy  getting  money  for  her 
Unit,  and  she  was  going  back.  Take  it  from  me. 
I've  been  through  it.  You're  going  to  miss  the  some- 


i8  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

thing — I  don't  know  what  it  is — but  life  over  there 
gets  you.  You  know  that,  Mother.  You'll  find 
yourself  thinking  more  about  the  people  you  left 
over  there  than  your  old  friends  here. 

(NANCY  rises  and  moves  toward  SYLVIA.  She  is 
thinking.  The  others  watch  her  closely.  Seeing 
that  SYLVIA  is  looking  at  her  anxiously,  she 
smiles  and  goes  to  her.) 

NANCY.    What  are  you  worrying  about,  dear? 

SYLVIA.  You  won't  get  bored  at  home,  will  you, 
Mother  ? 

JEFFREY.  Sylvia,  don't  pay  any  attention  to  this 
young  kill- joy.  (He  rises  and  advances  on  ALAN.J 
What  the  devil  is  the  matter  with  you?  (He  glares 
in  indignation  at  ALAN,  who  rises  and  goes  to  the 
door  to  the  terrace.  SYLVIA,  even  with  her  mother's 
arms  around  her,  is  still  unconvinced.) 

SYLVIA.    But  you  won't  get  bored,  will  you? 

NANCY.  No.  No.  No.  You  silly  little  goose! 
(She  has  taken  SYLVIA'S  face  in  her  hands,  kissing 
her  after  each  "No"  and  at  the  end  of  the  speech, 
then,  taking  her  over  to  the  armchair,  swings  her 
onto  the  arm  of  the  chair,  where  SYLVIA  perches,  all 
smiles  again,  her  arm  around  NANCY,  who  is  seated. 
JEFFREY  is  sitting  on  the  couch,  looking  at  them  and 
smiling  happily.) 

JEFFREY.  It's  good  to  see  you  over  there,  Nancy. 
We  missed  you — eh,  Sylvia? 

SYLVIA.    You  missed  us,  didn't  you,  Mother? 

ALAN.  When  she  had  the  time  to  think  about  you. 
But  you  never  had  the  time 

JEFFREY.  Say,  will  you  let  your  mother  speak  for 
herself? 

ALAN.    Just  the  same,  I'm  right,  aren't  I,  Mother  ? 

NANCY.    Perhaps — in  a  way.     But  I  had  lots  of 


THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  19 

time  to  be  lonesome  for  all  of  you.     (She  looks  lov 
ingly  at  JEFFREY.,) 

(NORA  comes  in,  bringing  a  tray.) 

NANCY.  Well,  if  it  isn't  Nora !  I  am  glad  to  see 
you.  (She  rises,  greeting  NORA  warmly.) 

NORA.  It's  glad  I  am  to  see  you,  Mrs.  Fair,  safe 
and  sound  out  of  them  trenches ! 

(NANCY  moves  toward  the  tray  .and  begins  to  ex 
amine  its  contents.  JEFFREY  and  SYLVIA  join 
ALAN.  They  stand  watching  her,  much  amused.) 

NANCY.    What's  this  ? 

NORA.  Luncheon's  a  couple  of  hours  off  and  cook 
thought  you  might  like  a  snack. 

NANCY.  Don't  tell  me  it's  honest-to-God  Ameri 
can  boiled  coffee?  And  sugar!  And  butter!  And 
real  cream  from  a  cow !  I  simply  can't  bear  it ! 

NORA.  It's  starved  you've  been  by  them  Paris 
chefs ! 

NANCY.  You've  said  it,  Nora.  Give  cook  a  kiss. 
How  are  all  the  others? 

NORA.  Oh,  fine,  and  waiting  in  the  kitchen  to  wel 
come  you. 

NANCY.    I'll  be  there  very  soon. 

NORA.  Oh,  Mrs.  Fair,  take  no  notice  of  William 
if  he's  kinda  short  with  you.  He's  that  annoyed; 
he  didn't  know  you  were  coming.  He  was  for  hav 
ing  a  triumphal  arch  over  the  front  door. 

NANCY.     I  won't. 

(They  laugh.  NORA  goes.  NANCY  sits  on  the  couch. 
SYLVIA  brings  a  chair  and  sits  beside  her.) 

SYLVIA.    Now,  Mother,  tell  us  everything. 


20  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR 

JEFFREY.  Oh,  let  your  mother  drink  her  coffee. 
We've  all  the  rest  of  our  lives  to  hear  about  it. 

ALAN.  Oh,  Mother,  they  won't  understand.  You 
can't  talk  about  it. 

SYLVIA.     What? 

JEFFREY.  (Guyingly)  You've  done  nothing  else 
since  you've  been  home.  (Tenderly.)  But  you've 
always  had  one  proud  listener,  son. 

ALAN.    (Shyly)    Dad ! 

NANCY.  And  here's  another!  Come  over  here 
this  instant  and  kiss  your  proud  mother. 

ALAN.     Oh,  Mother! 

NANCY.    This  instant  minute. 

JEFFREY.  Captain  Fair,  the  Major  is  talking  to 
you. 

(ALAN  snaps  to  a  salute.  NANCY  jumps  to  her  feet, 
returns  it.  They  laugh.  ALAN  kisses  NANCY 
and  she  sits  on  the  couch  with  ALAN  and  SYLVIA 
beside  her.  JEFFREY,  in  the  armchair,  looks 
fondly  at  the  group.) 

ALAN.    Say,  we're  going  to  have  some  great  talks  ! 

NANCY.  We're  going  to  fight  this  old  war  right 
from  the  beginninng ! 

JEFFREY.  Sylvia,  it's  going  to  be  great  to  hear 
just  what  Foch  should  have  done. 

SYLVIA.  You  don't  need  to  think  you're  going  to 
sneak  off  by  yourselves. 

NANCY.  You  can  trail  right  along,  darling.  Well, 
Alan,  I  suppose  you  can't  wait  to  get  back  to  Yale. 

JEFFREY.     He's  not  going  back. 

NANCY.    What? 

ALAN.    I'm  going  in  for  mining. 

NANCY.  Going  to  be  a  horny-handed  son  of  toil 
with  a  little  lamp  in  your  hat  and  everything.  Now, 
I'm  only  teasing.  Bless  your  heart,  you  do  what  you 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  21 

want  to  do.  You  would,  anyway.  (To  SYLVIA,) 
How  are  Biddy  Wynne  and  all  my  girls  ? 

SYLVIA.     Oh,  fine.    They're  coming  over  later. 

JEFFREY.     (Annoyed)    To-day? 

SYLVIA.  Yes.  I  'phoned  them  last  night.  I  knew 
mother's  Unit  would  want  to  welcome  her  home. 

NANCY.    Quite  right,  dear.    I'm  crazy  to  see  them. 

JEFFREY.  (Grumbling)  I  think  people  might  let 
us  have  you  to  ourselves  the  first  day. 

NANCY.  (Changing  the  subject)  Now,  Sylvia, 
tell  me  all  the  news,  and  I  wouldn't  mind  a  little 
gossip. 

SYLVIA.    The  Wellington- Smiths  have  a  new  baby. 

NANCY.     So?    Who's  been  divorced? 

SYLVIA.     Not  a  soul. 

NANCY.     What  ? 

ALAN.  Yes,  this  war  has  done  that  for  the  coun 
try.  Fighting  in  France  has  given  a  lot  of  husbands 
a  rest  from  battles  at  home. 

JEFFREY.  Old  stuff,  Alan.  Possibly  gave  the  wives 
a  rest,  too. 

NANCY.  Thank  you,  Jeffrey.  Sylvia,  no  matter 
how  many  times  you  marry,  always  select  a  gentle 
man  like  your  father.  Who  is  this  Angy  Brice? 

ALAN.    Oh,  Mother,  just  as  we  were  all  so 'happy! 

SYLVIA.    Why,  I  wrote  to  you  about  her. 

NANCY.  Yes,  darling,  I  know  your  Mrs.  Brice. 
(Meaningly.)  I  want  to  know  Jeff's  Mrs.  Brice. 

JEFFREY.    (Irritably)    She's  not  my  Mrs.  Brice. 

NANCY.  Why,  Jeffrey,  don't  you  want  to  tell  me 
about  your  little  playmate? 

JEFFREY.  (Casually)  Of  course.  She's  a  little 
widow  who  lives  next  door.  Wasn't  she  here  when 
you  came  over  last  time? 

NANCY,    No 

SYLVIA.  Daddy,  don't  you  remember  we  met  her 
just  after  mother  sailed? 


22  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

JEFFREY.  (Indifferently)  Oh,  yes,  I  believe  we 
did.  I'd  forgotten.  She's  a  charming  woman. 

NANCY.    Uhmm. 

JEFFREY.    Took  a  great  shine  to  Sylvia. 

NANCY.    Oh,  I  think  she  likes  you,  too. 

SYLVIA.  She's  devoted  to  us.  We've  seen  her 
every  day.  We  three  had  great  times.  Motor  rides, 
picnics 

NANCY.  Just  a  moment,  Sylvia.  Did  I  hear  cor 
rectly?  Your  father  on  a  picnic? 

JEFFREY.     Sylvia  liked  them. 

NANCY.  Oh,  I  hope  Angy  did,  too.  Alan,  don't 
you  like  picnics? 

SYLVIA.    Alan !    Oh,  he  hasn't  been  here. 

NANCY.  Where  have  you  been  ?  Now,  Alan, 'f  ess 
up.  Who  is  she? 

(ALAN  is  embarrassed,  confused.     SYLVIA  enjoys  it 
for  a  moment,  then  comes  to  his  rescue.) 

SYLVIA.    Alan  has  been  visiting  his  "buddy." 
NANCY.    Oh! 

(ALAN  looks  gratefully  at  SYLVIA. ) 

SYLVIA.  So  you  see,  Mother,  I  had  to  depend  on 
Angy.  I  Red  Crossed  with  her  in  town. 

NANCY.  Rather  a  fag,  going  to  New  York,  wasn't 
it? 

SYLVIA.  Oh,  daddy  drove  us  in  and  out.  Some 
times  we  dined  on  the  way  home,  and  when  I  was 
too  tired  I  let  Daddy  and  Angy  dine  together.  They 
didn't  mind. 

NANCY.     (Quizzically)     No  ? 

SYLVIA.    Wasn't  it  sweet  of  them? 

NANCY.  That  was  thoughtful.  What  made  you 
tired,  dear? 

JEFFREY.  (Irritably)  Oh,  the  heat  and  one  thing 
and  another.  But  let  us  drop  Mrs.  Brice. 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  23 

NANCY.  Oh,  my  dear,  I  couldn't.  What  would 
people  say  when  she  has  been  so  kind  to  you  ?  I  am 
going  to  be  very  nice  to  her. 

(NoRA  enters.) 

NORA.  Oh,  Mr.  Alan,  Mr.  Gillette  has  just  tele 
phoned. 

ALAN.     Yes  ? 

NORA.  I  told  him  you  couldn't  be  disturbed  and 
he  asked  me  to  remind  you  about  the  contract  he  left 
for  Mrs.  Fair.  (She  takes  the  tray  and  goes.  ALAN 
and  SYLVIA  exchange  glances.) 

NANCY.    Contract?    What  contract? 

ALAN.  Oh,  it's  nothing  you  need  bother  about 
now,  Mother. 

SYLVIA.    It  can  wait. 

NANCY.  (Rising)  Children,  I  am  dying  of  curi 
osity. 

ALAN.    Honestly,  it's  of  no  importance. 

JEFFREY.  Your  mother  is  the  best  judge  of  that. 
Give  it  to  her. 

ALAN.  (Giving  NANCY  the  envelope)  Oh,  all 
right.  (To  JEFFREY,)  It's  a  contract  for  a  lecture 
tour. 

JEFFREY.  A  wha — a  lecture  tour!  Oh,  this  is 
immense!  (JEFFREY  shrieks  with  laughter.  NANCY, 
who  has  been  reading  the  contract,  goes  toward  him.) 

NANCY.  Well,  Mr.  Jeffrey  Fair,  there  is  nothing 
funny  about  the  money  he  offers  me.  Alan,  what's 
a  hundred  times  $300? 

ALAN.    $30,000. 

NANCY.    Help ! 

JEFFREY.    Oh,  it's  a  fake. 

SYLVIA.  (Rising)  Mother,  you  couldn't  lecture. 
You  don't  know  how. 

NANCY.     Oh,  don't  I,  miss?    I  gave  a  little  talk 


24  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

one  night  to  the  boys  on  the  boat  and  they  assured 
me  that  I  was  a  riot. 

JEFFREY.    What  did  you  talk  about  ? 

NANCY.    My  experiences. 

SYLVIA.    Did  you  like  doing  it  ? 

NANCY.  It  was  rather  fun.  Of  course,  if  I  did 
it  here  it  wouldn't  be  for  money. 

JEFFREY.  But,  Nancy,  you're  not  going  to  do  it 
here. 

ALAN.  That  contract  calls  for  a  Coast-to-Coast 
tour. 

NANCY.    I've  never  been  to  California. 

JEFFREY.  Why,  you  haven't  been  home  for  more 
than  twenty  minutes.  You're  surely  not  contem 
plating  going  away  again?  (NANCY  is  silent.) 
Nancy,  what  are  you  thinking  about? 

NANCY.  I  was  just  thinking  that  $30,000  would 
do  a  lot  of  reconstructing 

ALAN.  She's  back  in  France.  What  did  I  tell 
you? 

JEFFREY.  (Rising)  This  home  could  do  with  a 
'little  "reconstructing." 

NANCY.  (Meaningly)  Oh,  come  now,  Jeff !  Af 
ter  what  I've  seen  and  heard  to-day,  you  can't  tell 
me  that  you  really  need  anything. 

SYLVIA.  We  need  you,  Mother,  awfully.  (She 
goes  to  NANCY.J 

NANCY.  (Kissing  her)  Well,  my  lamb,  you  are 
going  to  have  me. 

JEFFREY.    The  question  is,  for  how  long? 

NANCY.  It's  a  wise  wife  who  keeps  her  husband 
guessing.  Come  along,  Sylvia,  and  watch  mother 
get  the  glad  hand  from  the  help. 

(SYLVIA  laughs  as  they  leave  the  room  with  their 
arms  about  each  other.) 


THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  25 

ALAN.  I  could  choke  Nora.  I  was  going  to  hide 
that  contract. 

JEFFREY.  Oh,  this  Gillette  individual  would  have 
got  to  her  sooner  or  later.  (There  is  a  slight  pause.) 
Alan,  I  don't  want  you  to  misunderstand  about  Mrs. 
Brice. 

ALAN.  I  don't  on  your  end  of  it.  But  she's  after 
you,  Dad. 

JEFFREY.  Maybe.  But  that'll  be  finished.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  I  didn't  mean  to  go  it  so  strong. 
Lonely. 

ALAN.    Oh,  Hell !    I  know,  I  know. 

JEFFREY.    Do  you  think  there's  been  any  talk? 

ALAN.  You  can  bet  your  life  not  where  I  could 
hear  it. 

JEFFREY.    Alan,  you're  a  great  old  son. 

ALAN.  You're  some  dad !  (A  pause.)  Say,  Dad, 
do  you  mind  if  I  say  something  to  you? 

JEFFREY.  If  you  have  some  advice  up  your  sleeve, 
shake  it  out. 

ALAN.    Kind  of  fresh,  me  advising  you. 

JEFFREY.  You've  seen  things.  You're  not  a  kid 
any  longer.  You  fought  for  me.  It  seems  to  me 
that  gives  you  the  right  to  speak  your  mind. 

ALAN.    You  know,  mother  is  the  greatest 

(JEFFREY  has  started  to  say  "greatest  ever"  also.  He 
stops.) 

JEFFREY.  If  you  are  going  to  do  this  as  a  duet, 
let's  get  together. 

ALAN  and  JEFFREY.    Mother  is  the  greatest  ever. 

JEFFREY.    That's  unanimous.     Now,  fire  away ! 

ALAN.    Mother  made  a  whale  of  a  hit  in  France. 

JEFFREY.  Yes,  I  know.  If  she  wanted  to  she 
could  call  Pershinng  "Jack"  and  Haig  "Doug." 

ALAN.     Not   forgetting  "Ferdie"   Foch.     (They 


26  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

laugh.)  Over  here,  they  are  going  to  be  there  strong 
with  the  palaver. 

JEFFREY.     Yes,  I  expect  that. 

ALAN.    Mother's  going  to  fall  for  it. 

JEFFREY.    Yes,  I've  discounted  that,  too. 

ALAN.  Have  you  discounted  the  effect  on  her 
when  it's  all  over? 

JEFFREY.    I  hadn't  gotten  as  far  as  that. 

ALAN.    Take  a  running  jump  and  arrive  there. 

JEFFREY.     Humm. 

ALAN.  You've  got  to  heel  yourself  for  the  day 
when  mother  takes  a  look  around  and  says :  "France 
never  was  like  this." 

JEFFREY.     Humm. 

ALAN.  And  when  that  cold  gray  morning  arrives, 
don't  be  too  busy  to  make  life  very  damned  interest 
ing  for  mother. 

JEFFREY.  That's  a  pretty  tall  order  for  a  man 
without  any  gold  lace  on  his  chest,  but  I'll  do  my 
damnedest. 

ALAN.  And  if  I  see  the  symptoms  coming,  hav 
ing  been  through  it  myself,  I'll  give  you  the  high 
sign. 

JEFFREY.    Do.    Have  a  cigarette? 

ALAN.    Thanks. 

(They  go  out  to  the  terrace,  stopping  to  light  their 
cigarettes.  They  go  down  the  steps  into  the  gar 
den.  NORA  appears,  showing  in  MRS.  WYNNE.,) 

NORA.     I'll  tell  Mrs.  Fair  you're  here. 
MRS.  WYNNE.    Thank  you,  Nora. 

(NoRA  goes.  From  the  hall,  arm  in  arm,  like  three 
musketeers,  come  MRS.  BROWN,  MRS.  PERRIN 
and  MRS.  CONVERSE.  These  women,  including 
MRS.  WYNNE,  arc  members  of  the  Unit  which 
has  served  with  NANCY  in  France.  They  are 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR  27 

of  contrasting  types;  all  of  them  in  their  thirties; 
they  wear  uniforms  similar  to  that  of  NANCY. 
MRS.  BROWN,  MRS.  PERRIN  and  MRS.  CON 
VERSE  are  gay,  excited;  MRS.  WYNNE  is  rather 
tearful.) 

MRS.  BROWN.  I'm  so  excited.  I  can  hardly  wait 
to  see  Nancy. 

MRS.  PERRIN.  First  real  thrill  I've  had  since  I've 
been  home. 

MRS.  CONVERSE.  Soft  pedal  on  that,  Lila,  when 
your  hubby's  around.  (She  sits  on  the  couch.) 

MRS.  BROWN.  Look  at  Biddy !  Biddy,  you  poor 
old  fish,  wake  up ;  your  buddy's  home. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  (Tearfully)  I  can't  seem  to  real 
ize  it. 

MRS.  CONVERSE.     Cut  out  the  sob  stuff,  darling. 

(She  sits  beside  MRS.  PERRIN.  Their  laughter  is 
interrupted  by  the  appearance  of  the  remaining 
member  of  the  Unit,  MRS.  WELLS,  a  woman 
of  dominating  personality,  about  fifty  years  of 
age ;  she  also  is  in  uniform,  and  carries  a  large 
and  very  elaborate  bouquet.) 

MRS.  BROWN.     Get  Wellsie! 

MRS.  WELLS.  Now,  girls,  after  the  salute — and 
for  goodness'  sake  get  some  snap  in  it — you  advance, 
Bridget,  and  present  the  bouquet  to  Major  Fair. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  (Protesting)  Why  is  this  presen 
tation  stuff  wished  on  me  ? 

MRS.  WELLS.     Weren't  you  Nancy's  buddy? 

MRS.  WYNNE.  (Sarcastically)  I  never  handed 
her  any  bouquets. 

MRS.  BROWN.  Now's  your  chance.  (She  sits  on 
the  armchair.) 

MRS.  WYNNE.  (Scornfully)  It  seems  such  a 
damn  silly  thing  to  do. 


28  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

MRS.  GONVERSE.     It  is  kind  of  sissy. 

MRS.  WELLS.  (Indignantly)  I  think  it's  a  sweet 
idea. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  How  in  blazes  can  I  salute  and 
hand  her  a  bouquet  at  the  same  time  ?  (She  salutes 
with  her  right  hand,  presenting  the  bouquet  ivith  her 
left.  It  is  obviously  awkward.) 

MRS.  PERRIN.    I  have  an  idea. 

MRS.  CONVERSE.     (Guyingly)    No! 

MRS.  WELLS.     Impossible! 

MRS.  WYNNE.     Really! 

MRS.  PERRIN.  (Going  to  MRS.  BROWN,)  Why 
couldn't  you  hold  it  at  your  side  like  a  sword  and 
draw  it — see? 

MRS.  WYNNE.  (Disgusted)  Oh!  You  poor 
simp! 

MRS.  CONVERSE.    Oh,  Lila,  awful ! 

MRS.  BROWN.     Terrible ! 

MRS.  PERRIN.  Oh,  if  any  of  you  had  thought  of 
it! 

MRS.  WELLS.  (Witheringly)  Throw  the  old 
thing  out  the  window.  I  don't  care.  (She  sits  be 
side  MRS.  CONVERSE  on  the  couch.) 

MRS.  WYNNE.  I  was  the  goat  of  this  Unit  for 
four  years. 

MRS.  BROWN.  (Teasingly)  Well,  won't  you  be 
our  little  nanny  for  one  more  day? 

MRS.  CONVERSE.  (Innocently)  What  are  you  go 
ing  to  say,  darling,  when  you  give  it  to  her? 

MRS.  WELLS.  (Casually)  A  few  graceful  words 
of  welcome. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  (Furiously)  I  haven't  got  to  make 
a  speech? 

MRS.  PERRIN.  Why,  sweetie,  you  can't  just  shove 
it  at  her. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  Here,  Wellsie,  take  your  pretty 
posies.  I'm  going  home.  (She  throws  the  bouquet 


THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  29 

on  the  couch  where  MRS.  WELLS  is  seated,  then  starts 
to  go.  MRS.  PERRIN  stops  her,  bringing  her  over  to 
MRS.  BROWN.  They  expostulate  with  her.) 

MRS.  PERRIN.  Why,  Bridget!  Nancy  would  be 
sick  if  you  weren't  here. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  No,  I've  stood  enough.  No,  I  tell 
you  it's  "finis." 

MRS.  WELLS.  I  seem  to  be  the  one  at  fault.  I'll 
go.  (She  starts  to  the  door.  MRS.  CONVERSE  stops 
her.) 

MRS.  CONVERSE.  Oh,  Wellsie,  what's  the  matter 
with  you  ?  Behave !  It's  like  old  times,  hearing  you 
two  scrap. 

NANCY.     (Outside)     Hurry  up,  Sylvia. 

MRS.  BROWN.     (Joyously)    She's  coming! 

MRS.  WELLS.  (In  great  excitement)  Fall  in. 
Wynne  here.  Then  Brown.  Converse  next.  (She 
turns  in  irritation  to  MRS.  CONVERSE,  who  has  started 
to  the  door.)  Converse!  (MRS.  CONVERSE  runs  to 
MRS.  WELLS,  who  grabs  her  and  places  her  next  to 
MRS.  BROWN.)  Perrin!  (She  shoves  MRS.  PERRIN 
into  place  next  to  MRS.  CONVERSE,  then  takes  her 
own  position  at  the  end  of  the  line.  The  women 
"dress"  to  a  perfect  formation.)  Attention! 

(NANCY  rushes  in,  followed  by  SYLVIA. ) 

NANCY.     Oh,  girls! 
MRS.  WELLS.    Salute ! 

(All  the  women  snap  to  a  salute,  which  is  returned 
by  NANCY.  MRS.  WYNNE  takes  two  paces  for 
ward  in  military  manner  and  salutes  again. 
NANCY  returns  it.) 

MRS.  WYNNE.  Major  Fair,  in  the  name  of  your 
Unit,  I  wish  to  extend Oh,  Buddy !  Buddy ! 


30  THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

(She  breaks  down  and,  rushing  to  NANCY,  throws 
her  arms  about  her.     They  embrace  wildly.) 

NANCY.  Biddy!  Biddy!  My  dear  old  Biddy! 
Oh,  Billy  Brown!  And  Mary  Anne!  Oh,  Lila! 
and  Wellsie,  old  girl !  Oh,  this  is  wonderful !  (She 
embraces  them  all  in  turn.  They  are  laughing,  cry 
ing,  in  hysterical  joy  over  their  reunion.  SYLVIA, 
who  has  been  watching  them,  is  much  affected.) 

MRS.  PERRIN.     (Tearfully)    Hello,  Sylvia. 

SYLVIA.     (Tearfully)     Hello. 

MRS.  CONVERSE.  (Tearfully)  Oh,  Sylvia!  Isn't 
it  wonderful,  having  mother  home  ? 

SYLVIA.     (Crying)    Wonderful. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  (Suddenly  seeing  the  bouquet  on 
the  couch.)  .  Oh,  damn  it  all,  I  forgot  the  bouquet! 
(She  picks  up  the  bouquet  and  gives  it  to  NANCY, 
who  laughs.) 

MRS.  BROWN.  Everybody  cried  all  they're  going 
to? 

MRS.  CONVERSE.    Well,  Nancy,  spill  us  the  news. 

NANCY.    What  do  you  want  to  know? 

MRS.  PERRIN.    How's  Clementine? 

NANCY.  Splendid.  Sent  all  of  you  her  dearest 
love. 

MRS.  CONVERSE.  Was  there  ever  a  cook  like 
Clementine ! 

MRS.  PERRIN.    Never. 

NANCY.  You  know  that  tin  Lizzie  she  used  to 
drive?  "Ma  chere  Lizette."  I  gave  her  "Lizette" 
and  four  new  tires.  I  marked  it  on  my  report 
"abandoned." 

MRS.  WELLS.    What  will  she  do  with  it? 

NANCY.  I  suppose  she'll  move  the  pig  out  of  the 
parlor.  Oh,  God  love  her,  how  I  hated  to  say  good 
bye!  I  hope  the  people  at  the  Gare  du  Nord  wore 
rubbers.  Wre  wept  buckets! 


THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  31 

(The  women  are  seated,  clustered  about  NANCY. 
SYLVIA  stands  beside  her.) 

MRS.  CONVERSE.    My,  doesn't  it  bring  it  all  back ! 

MRS.  WELLS.  Yes,  if  somebody  would  only  drop 
a  bomb  I'd  feel  perfectly  at  home. 

MRS.  BROWN.  Speaking  of  bombs — remember 
Coucy  ? 

MRS.  PERRIN.    Oh,  Billy,  don't. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  (To  NANCYJ  Buddy,  I'll  always 
remember  you  driving  that  first  ambulance  down  the 
road  with  those  Jerrys  overhead,  shooting  at  you. 

SYLVIA.    Oh,  Mother,  how  could  you? 

NANCY.  Thank  heaven,  the  Boche  who  followed 
me  couldn't  hit  anything  smaller  than  the  Hippo 
drome. 

MRS.  BROWN.  That's  why  they  decorated  your 
mother — for  that  and  a  few  such  trifles. 

SYLVIA.  Did  they  only  give  her  one  measly  little 
Croix  de  Guerre  for  that  ?  Why,  they  ought  to  have 
hung  medals  all  over  her! 

NANCY.  Oh,  girls,  I  have  a  lovely  letter  from 
Poincare  and  a  screed  from  Petain,  thanking  us  for 
our  four  years'  work  with  the  French  Army. 

MRS.  CONVERSE.    Some  Unit! 

MRS.  PERRIN.    I'll  say  it  was. 

MRS.  BROWN.    Not  so  worse. 

MRS.  WELLS.  We'll  frame  those  letters  and  hang 
them  in  the  club. 

MRS.  BROWN.  Yes.  In  the  smoking-room,  where 
all  the  women  will  be  sure  to  see  it. 

NANCY.  (Giving  SYLVIA  the  bouquet)  Oh,  Syl 
via,  will  you  put  these  in  my  room?  Then  look  in 
my  despatch  box.  Here  are  the  keys.  Bring  those 
kodaks.  I  had  them  finished  at  last.  (She  gives  the 
keys  to  SYLVIA,  who  runs  out.) 

NANCY.     Now,  girls,  tell  me  and  tell  me  true: 


32  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

How  does  it  feel  to  be  at  home  ?  (There  is  silence.) 
Don't  everybody  shriek  with  joy  at  once! 

MRS.  WYNNE.  Seems  to  me  I've  been  home  a  mil 
lion  years. 

MRS.  PERRIN.  After  a  couple  of  days  with  my 
kiddies,  I  sighed  for  the  peace  and  quiet  of  an  air 
raid. 

MRS.  BROWN.  You're  in  luck  to  have  them.  I've 
been  driven  to  card-indexing  my  hens ! 

MRS.  CONVERSE.  I  wish  you'd  come  over  and  card- 
index  my  Swede ! 

MRS.  WELLS.  I  must  confess  that  after  I  had 
kissed  my  old  man  and  all  the  grandchildren,  they 
looked  sort  of  strange  to  me. 

NANCY.  Girls,  this  sounds  awful !  Possibly  Alan 
was  right.  He  said  I  would  find  it  flat. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  After  being  on  the  hop,  skip  and 
jump  for  four  years,  it's  the  very  devil  to  sit  around 
"Bla." 

MRS.  PER.RIN.    Have  you  any  plans? 

NANCY.  I  had  thought  of  buying  all  the  clothes 
in  New  York,  seeing  all  the  shows,  playing  around 
with  my  family  .  .  . 

MRS.  CONVERSE.  We've  done  all  that.  And  then 
what? 

NANCY.     Why,  eh- 


MRS.  PERRIN.     Exactly.     "Why,  eh- 


MRS.  BROWN.  You  see,  Nancy,  now  we  have  time 
to  burn  and  no  matches. 

NANCY.  What  are  all  the  other  war  workers  do 
ing? 

MRS.  BROWN.     Kicking  about  being  demobilised. 

NANCY.  It's  a  burnning  shame  that  Washington 
couldn't  have  used  all  this  organized  talent. 

MRS.  WELLS.  Oh,  what  could  you  expect  from 
Congress  ? 

SYLVIA.     (Entering)    Here  are  the  photographs! 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  33 

Oh,  Mother,  there  are  a  lot  of  reporters  here  to  see 
you. 

NANCY.     Where  ? 

SYLVIA.     On  the  front  door-step. 

NANCY.  (Rises  quickly)  Goodness,  child !  Run 
and  ask  your  father  for  some  of  his  best  cigars. 

(SYLVIA  runs  into  the  garden,  calling  "Daddy"  The 
women  have  risen  excitedly  at  the  news  of  the 
reporters'  arrival  They  are  congregated  about 
the  table,  examining  the  photographs,  selecting 
those  'they  think  most  suitable  for  publication. 
NANCY  is  adjusting  her  uniform.) 

NANCY.    My  hair's  a  sight. 

MRS.  WELLS.     You  look  lovely. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  I'd  give  them  these,  Nancy ;  they're 
bully  of  you. 

NANCY.  I  don't  think  I  want  any  photographs. 
Jeff  mightn't  like  it. 

MRS.  CONVERSE.  If  you  don't,  they  are  sure  to 
dig  up  some  horror. 

NANCY.    Well,  give  me  some  of  the  bunch. 

MRS.  BriowN.  Nancy,  where's  your  Croix  de 
Who's  Whoser? 

NANCY.    Would  you  wear  it  ? 

MRS.  PERRIN.     Certainly. 

(NANCY  is  pinning  on  the  Croix  de  Guerre  as  SYL 
VIA,  JEFFREY  and  ALAN  appear  from  the  ter 
race.) 

JEFFREY.     Hello. 

ALL.     Hello,  Jeff. 

JEFFREY.    Which  one  of  you  girls  wants  a  cigar? 

NANCY.    They're  for  the  reporters. 

JEFFREY.    What  reporters  ? 

NANCY.    From  New  York.    Come  on,  girls. 


34  THE  FAMOUS   MRS.    FAIR 

JEFFREY.    You're  not  going  to  see  them? 
ALAN.     (Whispering)     Careful,  Dad. 
NANCY.    Not  if  you  don't  wish  it. 
JEFFREY.    Well,  all  right. 

MRS.  WELLS.    Hurry  up,  dear,  before  he  changes 
his  mind. 

(The  women  surround  NANCY  and  leave  the  room, 
SYLVIA  in  the  lead.  They  are  laughing  and 
talking.  JEFFREY  stands  watching  them,  bewil 
dered.) 

JEFFREY.    My  wife!    Can  you  beat  it ? 
ALAN.    That's  not  your  wife,  Dad;  that's  Major 
Fair. 


CURTAIN 


THE  SECOND  ACT 

The  scene  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  previous  act.  It 
is  an  afternoon  in  June. 

MRS.  BROWN,  MRS.  WELLS,  MRS.  CONVERSE,  MRS. 
WYNNE  and  MRS.  PERRIN  and  GILLETTE  are 
seated,  •  all  of  them  engrossed  in  the  afternoon 
editions  of  the  New  York  newspapers.  The 
women,  in  contrast  to  the  uniforms  of  the  first 
act,  are  now  wearing  very  charming  afternoon 
gowns. 

MRS.  WELLS.  This  reporter  knows  what  he's  talk 
ing1  about. 

MRS.  CONVERSE.  Nancy's  lecture  sure  made  a  hit 
last  night. 

MRS.  BROWN.  A  hit!  Listen  to  this:  (Read- 
ing)  "Another  Platform  Star.  Major  Fair  Wins 
an  Ovation.  Thrills  Her  Audience." 

GILLETTE.  I  should  say  she  did.  I've  managed 
a  great  many  lecturers,  but  I  have  never  seen  so  suc 
cessful  a  first  appearance. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  Did  you  hear  what  Angy  Brice 
said  last  night? 

MRS.  CONVERSE.    No. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  (Imitating  ANGY'S  manner)  Nan 
cy's  account  of  our  work  overseas  made  her  quite 
envious  that  she  had  never  been  one  of  the  Thank- 
God-  For-The- War- Women . 

MRS.  CONVERSE.    Kitty,  kitty,  kitty. 

MRS.  BROWN.    Meow!    Meow! 
35 


36  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR 

MRS.  PERRIN.  Oh,  Mr.  Gillette,  is  Mrs.  Fair  go 
ing  to  sign  that  contract  with  you? 

GILLETTE.  I  hope  so.  You  all  might  help  me  to 
persuade  her. 

MRS.  WELLS.    When  do  you  want  her  to  go  ? 

GILLETTE.     In  July. 

MRS.  BROWN.     Isn't  that  too  early? 

GILLETTE.  The  coast  is  full  of  tourists  then ;  be 
sides,  I  want  her  to  go  out  and  get  the  money  before 
the  people  forget  that  there  has  been  a  war. 

MRS.  WYNNE.    But  she's  only  been  home  a  month. 

MRS.  PERRIN.  A  month!  Isn't  that  punishment 
enough  ? 

(From  the  hall  come  NANCY  and  SYLVIA,  both  of 
them  in  pretty  summer  frocks.  NANCY  has  in 
her  hand  the  contract  offered  her  by  GILLETTE 
and  has  evidently  been  considering  it.) 

NANCY.    Hello,  girls. 

EVERYBODY.    Hello,  Nancy;  hello,  Sylvia. 

NANCY.  Mr.  Gillette,  there's  a  photographer  out 
side  who  wants  to  see  me. 

GILLETTE.  It's  the  man  to  take  the  photographs 
for  that  Syndicate  story. 

NANCY.    Which  one? 

GILLETTE.  "A  Day  in  the  Life  of  Major  Fair." 
It's  toVshow  your  domestic  side. 

NANCY.  Oh,  I  don't  know.  Girls,  don't  you  think 
it's  rather  intimate? 

MRS.  PERRIN.     Not  at  all. 

MRS.  CONVERSE.    Go  on,  Nancy ;  be  a  sport. 

SYLVIA.  (Going  to  him)  Mr.  Gillette,  what  pho 
tographs  are  you  going  to  take? 

GILLETTE.     Major  Fair  with  her  morning's  mail. 

NANCY.  Can't  you  use  that  one  at  my  desk  that 
was  published  ? 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  37 

GILLETTE.  That'll  be  fine.  Then  one  in  the  gar 
den. 

NANCY.  (Satirically)  Another  on  my  knees  to 
the  cook. 

GILLETTE.  (Enthusiastically)  One  in  the  kitchen 
would  be  great  stuff. 

SYLVIA.  I  had  better  go  out  and  break  it  to 
Hulda. 

NANCY.    She'll  say,  "Ay  ban  goin'  quit." 

MRS.  CONVERSE.  Put  her  in  the  photograph  and 
she'll  stay  for  life. 

NANCY.  I  hope  so.  She's  the  seventh  in  four 
weeks. 

GILLETTE.  We'll  have  the  first  picture  in  the  gar- 
denT  I'll  go  and  arrange  it.  Come  on,  Sylvia. 

NANCY.  Don't  put  me  among  the  lilies.  They 
toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin. 

(GILLETTE  laughs  and  exits  with  SYLVIA  to  the  gar 
den.  MRS.  WELLS  rises  and  goes  to  NANCY,  who 
has  joined  MRS.  CONVERSE. ) 

MRS.  WELLS.  Now,  Nancy,  you're  not  going  to 
refuse  this  great  opportunity  Mr.  Gillette's  offering 
you?  Think  what  we  could  do  with  the  money. 

NANCY.    Reconstruction  work  in  France? 

MRS.  WELLS.  No.  We  could  reconstruct  some 
slums  in  this  country. 

MRS.  WYNNE.    Great  idea,  Wellsie! 

MRS.  CONVERSE.     Splendid  scheme! 

MRS.  PERRIN.    It's  what  we  ought  to  do. 

MRS.  BROWN.    And  right  now. 

MRS.  WELLS.    We  could  keep  the  unit  together. 

MRS.  BROWN.     (Rising)     I'm  for  that. 

MRS.  PERRIN.  (Rising)  I'm  for  anything  that 
would  give  us  all  something  real  to  do. 

MRS.  WYNNE.     You've  said  it. 

NANCY.     I  can't  make  up  my  mind.    I  don't  be- 


38  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.    FAIR 

lieve  Jeff  would  approve,  and  unless  he  did  I 
wouldn't  want  to  go. 

MRS.  WELLS.  Wasn't  he  very  proud  of  your  suc 
cess  last  night? 

NANCY.  If  he  was,  he  has  concealed  it  most  care 
fully. 

MRS.  BROWN.    Hasn't  he  congratulated  you? 

NANCY.  Not  a  congrat.  "Kinda"  took  the  joy 
out  of  it. 

MRS.  CONVERSE.  Don't  let  that  worry  you,  Nancy. 
A  husband  hates  to  admit  that  his  wife  can  do  any 
thing. 

MRS.  WELLS.  He's  likely  making  himself  a  bore 
at  the  club  right  now,  bragging  about  you. 

NANCY.  Do  you  think  so?  But  if  I  went,  what 
about  Sylvia? 

MRS.  WYNNE.    Why  not  take  her  with  you? 

NANCY.  I  don't  believe  she'd  want  to  leave  her 
father.  And  I  don't  know  that  I'd  be  happy  think 
ing  of  Jeff  here  alone  again. 

MRS.  PERRIN.    Alan  would  be  here. 

NANCY.  I  hadn't  thought  of  that.  Well,  I'll  think 
it  over. 

MRS.  WELLS.    Think  it  over  seriously. 

(SYLVIA  appears  at  the  door  to  the  terrace.) 

SYLVIA.    Oh,  Mother,  Mr.  Gillette's  ready. 

NANCY.  All  right.  Come  on,  girls.  How  do  I 
look? 

MRS.  BROWN.     Fine. 

MRS.  WELLS.  Nancy,  I  ought  to  go  to  market  and 
get  Gilbert's  fruit  for  breakfast.  It's  Saturday  and 
all  the  melons  may  be  sold. 

NANCY.  Oh,  Wellsie,  you  should  worry.  Give 
him  prunes. 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  39 

(The  women  laugh.  NANCY  takes  MRS.  WELLS  by 
the  arm  and  leads  her  up  to  door,  MRS.  WELLS 
expostulating.  They  all  go  down  the  steps  to 
the  garden,  talking.  NANCY  has  given  SYLVIA 
the  contract.  SYLVIA  places  it  on  the  table  and 
is  about  to  follow  the  women  when  ALAN  ap 
pears  from  the  hall.  He  is  in  golf  clothes.) 

ALAN.     Oh,  sis. 

SYLVIA.    What? 

ALAN.     Did  you  fix  it  with  Peggy? 

SYLVIA.    Yes.    She's  coming  to  tea. 

ALAN.    That's  great. 

SYLVIA.  Are  you  going  to  tell  mother  and  daddy 
this  afternoon  ? 

ALAN.     Sure. 

SYLVIA.    Before  Peggy  arrives? 

ALAN.    No. 

SYLVIA.    You  should. 

ALAN.  Not  at  all.  If  I  tell  them  I'm  going  to 
marry  a  stenographer  they  might  be  prejudiced. 
Once  they  see  her  they  won't  care  what  she  is. 

SYLVIA.     I  hope  so. 

ALAN.  Oh,  she'll  bowl  them  right  over  as  she 
did  me. 

SYLVIA.    Where's  Daddy? 

JEFFREY.     (Entering)     Right  here. 

SYLVIA.    How  was  your  game? 

JEFFREY.  Rotten!  Why  didn't  you  and  your 
mother  join  us  at  luncheon? 

SYLVIA.    Mr.  Gillette  came  and  we  couldn't. 

ALAN.     (Sitting)     Is  that  pest  here? 

SYLVIA.  (Indignantly)  Dudley's  not  a  pest. 
(Smiling.)  He's  charming. 

ALAN.     Since  when,  "Dudley"? 

SYLVIA.  I  can't  go  on  calling  a  man  I've  seen  al 
most  every  day  for  a  month  Mr.  Gillette.  Can  I, 
Daddy? 


40  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

ALAN.  (Coming  over  to  her)  Don't  let  me  catch 
you  flirting  with  him. 

SYLVIA.  Why,  Alan  Fair,  I  don't  know  how. 
JEFFREY.  Alan,  don't  talk  such  damn  nonsense. 
SYLVIA.  Thanks,  Daddy. 

(ALAN  returns  to  the  armchair.) 

JEFFREY.     Where's  your  mother? 

SYLVIA.    In  the  garden,  being  photographed. 

JEFFREY.     Again? 

ALAN.    What's  the  idea  this  time? 

SYLVIA.  It's  for  a  magazine  article  showing  her 
domestic  side. 

JEFFREY.  I  hope  the  camera  can  find  it.  (As  he 
passes  the  table  he  sees  the  contract  lying  on  it.  He 
picks  it  up,  sits,  and  begins  to  read  it.) 

(SYLVIA  goes  over  to  ALAN,  who  is  seated.) 

SYLVIA.  Oh !  Have  you  seen  the  afternoon 
papers  ? 

JEFFREY.     We  have. 

SYLVIA.  Aren't  they  wonderful  ?  (ALAN  is 
silent.  SYLVIA  goes  to  JEFFREY. )  Aren't  they  won 
derful?  (JEFFREY  does  not  answer.)  Oh,  I  think 
that  you  are  both  as  mean  as  you  can  be  about 
mother!  I  should  think  you'd  be  proud  of  her! 

JEFFREY.     We  were. 

SYLVIA.  Why  aren't  you  now?  Everybody  was 
crazy  about  her  last  night  and  neither  of  you  so  much 
as  congratulated  her. 

ALAN.    I  couldn't  get  near  her. 

SYLVIA.  You  didn't  try  very  hard.  And,  Daddy, 
you  left  us  flat  and  went  home  with  Angy  Brice. 

JEFFREY.     Angy  was  feeling  seedy. 

SYLVIA.  Humph !  Maybe.  Sometimes  I  think 
Angy  doesn't  like  mother. 


kk  THE  FAMOUS  MRS.  FAIR  " 


Act  1 


42  THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

(He  laughs.  SYLVIA  kisses  him,  then  runs  down  the 
steps,  calling  "Oh,  Mother!"  NANCY  and  the 
women  who  are  at  the  right  of  the  garden  call 
to  her.  JEFFREY  follozvs  SYLVIA  to  the  door, 
where  he  stands  looking  off  into  the  garden,  from 
which  comes  the  sounds  of  laughter  and  conver 
sation.) 

JEFFREY.  Gosh,  I'd  like  to  come  into  this  place 
just  once  and  not  find  that  bunch  of  women  here. 
A  man  would  have  more  privacy  in  the  Grand  Cen 
tral  Depot. 

ALAN.  You  said  it.  Whenever  mother  is  at  home 
this  house  looks  like  a  club  women's  Old  Home 
Week. 

JEFFREY.  Wouldn't  you  think,  after  four  years 
together,  they'd  be  tired  of  each  other? 

(ALAN  joins  JEFFREY  at  the  door.) 

ALAN.  And  the  line  of  flattery  they  hand  out  and 
mother  lapping  it  up  like  a  cat  does  cream ! 

JEFFREY.  I  know.  Even  a  woman  as  level 
headed  as  your  mother  will  soon  believe  she's  the 
greatest  thing  in  the  world.  (He  goes  to  the  arm 
chair  and  sits.) 

ALAN.  Why  don't  you  take  her  away,  out  of  it 
all? 

JEFFREY.  She's  booked  up  a  month  ahead.  Ban 
quets,  receptions,  although  I  thought  she  had  been 
given  one  by  everybody  from  the  Mayor  down  to 
the  Conductorettes'  Union. 

ALAN.  And  they  have  almost  worn  out  that  Coix 
de  Guerre  passing  it  around  from  hand  to  hand. 

JEFFREY.  Yes,  and  what  are  you  going  to  do  about 
it? 

ALAN.    Why  did  you  let  her  start? 

JEFFREY.    Who  told  me  to  keep  her  busy  ? 


THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  43 

ALAN.  I  did — I  did.  I  wasn't  counting  on  the 
endurance  of  women.  If  I  had  hit  a  gait  like 
mother's— — 

JEFFREY.  She  hasn't  rested  a  day  since  she  ar 
rived. 

ALAN.  It's  a  wonder  to  me  that  she  hasn't  had  a 
nervous  breakdown. 

JEFFREY.  Son,  the  only  thing  that  makes  a  woman 
have  a  nervous  breakdown  nowadays  is  having  to 
stay  at  home.  (A  noise  of  laughter  and  high-pitched 
gabble  conies  from  the  garden.)  Listen  to  that 
cackle.  What  are  they  doing  ? 

ALAN.    They're  leaving. 

JEFFREY.    All  of  them? 

ALAN.  No.  Mrs.  Wynne,  the  bodyguard,  is  stick 
ing  around. 

JEFFREY.     What's  Sylvia  doing? 

ALAN.     Standing  there,  adoring  mother  as  usual. 

JEFFREY.    She  is  the  sweetest  kid. 

ALAN.  (Coming  to  JEFFREY,)  She  is  that.  Doesn't 
even  see  that  mother  is  neglecting  her.  Why  can't 
she  settle  down  and  devote  herself  to  Sylvia? 

JEFFREY.  She  would  if  it  weren't  for  those  women 
and  that  damn  Gillette!  He'll  have  her  signed, 
sealed  and  delivered. 

ALAN.     Why  don't  you  tie  a  can  to  him? 

JEFFREY.  How?  By  forbidding  him  to  come 
here  ?  My  boy,  I  haven't  lived  with  your  mother  all 
these  years  without  realizing  that,  if  you  want  her 
to  do  something,  tell  her  she  can't. 

ALAN.     I'm  "kinda"  that  way. 

JEFFREY.    Yes.    It  works  with  you,  too. 

(They  laugh.  JEFFREY,  rising,  sees  ANGY,  who  has 
come  from  the  left  side  of  the  garden,  and  is 
now  at  the  top  of  the  steps.) 

JEFFREY.    Hello,  Angy! 


44  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

ANGY.     May  I  corne  in? 

JEFFREY.     Certainly. 

ANGY.    Sure  I'm  not  intruding? 

ALAN.  (Sarcastically)  Oh,  not  at  all.  Won't 
you  sit  down  ? 

ANGY.  Oh,  I  simply  wanted  to  see  Jeff  a  min 
ute— 

ALAN.  Might  as  well  be  comfortable  while  you're 
looking  at  him. 

(With  elaborate  politeness,  he  indicates  the  armchair. 
ANGY  looks  at  him  sharply.  ALAN  smiles  sweet 
ly.  ANGY  controls  her  annoyance,  smiles  at  him 
and  sits.  JEFFREY,  oblivious,  sits  on  the  couch 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  room.  ALAN  wan 
ders  over  back  of  ANGY'S  chair,  and  takes  up 
his  position  in  the  center  of  the  room  between 
ANGY  and  JEFFREY.,) 

JEFFREY.     All  right  again? 

ANGY.  Oh,  yes.  It  was  very  close  in  the  club- 
room  last  night.  Then  I  got  quite  worked  up  over 
Mrs.  Fair's  lecture.  It  was  so  harrowing. 

ALAN.  (Very  pleasantly)  Quite  a  success, 
though. 

ANGY.  (Smiling  szveetly  at  him)  Yes,  being  a 
woman  in  uniform  helped  a  lot,  don't  you  think? 
I'm  sure  she'll  be  a  great  success  on  tour.  She's  so 
well  advertised.  You  can't  pick  up  a  magazine  with 
out  seeing  your  mother's  picture  under  "In  the  Pub 
lic  Eye." 

JEFFREY.     (Annoyed)     She's  not  on  tour  yet. 

ANGY.    (Innocently)    She's  going,  isn't  she  ? 

ALAN.    It  isn't  decided. 

ANGY.  (Affecting  great  surprise)  Wh£,  Mr. 
Gillette  told  me  the  other  day  that  it  was  practically 
settled.  He  was  afraid  that  the  family  might  inter 
fere.  I  laughed  at  the  idea.  Why  should  you  ob- 


THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  45 

ject  to  Mrs.  Fair  going  away  for  a  few  months  when 
she  had  left  you  all  alone  so  long? 

ALAN.    That  was  kind  of  you  to  reassure  him. 

ANGY.     Of  course  you  could  go  too,  Jeff. 

JEFFREY.     I  ? 

ANGY.  (Sympathetically)  I  suppose  it  would  get 
tiresome,  being  merely  the  husband  of  Major  Fair. 

JEFFREY.    Yes,  one  can  get  fed  up  on  it. 

ANGY.  I'd  be  perfectly  willing  to  take  charge  of 
Sylvia  again. 

ALAN.     Mother  hasn't  gone  yet. 

ANGY.'  (Protesting)  If  she  wants  to,  I  think  she 
should.  It  isn't  as  though  Mrs.  Fair  were  a  home 
body  like  me,  just  content  to  make  a  man  comfort 
able  and  happy.  You  can't  expect  anyone  so  bril 
liant  as  your  mother  not  to  get  bored  with  her  home 
and  her  family.  Not  that  I'm  insinuating  that  she  is. 

ALAN.     Oh,  no. 

JEFFREY.  (Tired  of  the  discussion)  What  did 
you  want  to  see  me  about,  Angy  ? 

ANGY.  This  letter,  but  there's  no  hurry.  (There 
is  a  pause;  ANGY  looks  at  ALAN  and  turns  away,  an 
noyed,  ALAN  smiles.  Finally  ANGY,  determined  to 
be  rid  of  him,  turns  and  smiles  sweetly.)  Oh,  Alan, 
been  to  see  your  "buddy"  lately  ? 

ALAN.     (Confused)  "  Why,  yes. 

ANGY.  He  must  be  awfully  attractive  to  have  you 
so  devoted  to  him.  (Meaningly.)  Sylvia  says  he 
has  a  very  charming  sister. 

ALAN.     (More  confused)    Yes — yes,  he  has. 

JEFFREY.     (Rising)     What's  this  I  hear? 

ALAN.  (Very  much  embarrassed)  I  think  I'll 
go  change.  (He  hurriedly  leaves  the  room.  JEF 
FREY  watches,  amused.  ANGY  smiles  to  herself, 
pleased  at  having  rid  herself  of  ALAN.  JEFFREY  goes 
to  ANGY.) 

JEFFREY.    Well,  Angy,  let  me  see  the  letter. 
ANGY.     The  letter  was  only  an  excuse.    I  saw, 


46  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

those  stupid  women  in  the  garden  and  I  knew  how  it 
bored  you  to  have  them  around,  so  I  came  over  to 
give  you  an  excuse  to  get  away. 

JEFFREY.  Good  for  you,  Angy,  but  I'll  stay  here. 
They  have  to  go  home  some  time,  if  it's  only  to  sleep. 
(He  goes  to  a  chair  below  the  fireplace,  where  he  sits 
facing  ANGY,  who  looks  annoyed  at  the  failure  of  her 
ruse;  as  JEFFREY  turns  to  her  she  smiles  sweetly.) 

ANGY.     (Sighing)     I'd  like  to  be  celebrated  and 
have  women  like  me. 
JEFFREY.     They  do. 

ANGY.    They  don't.    All  their  nasty  husbands  do. 
JEFFREY.    Why  aren't  you  as  nice  to  the  wives  ? 
ANGY.     I  don't  get  a  chance.     The  husbands  al 
ways  grab  me  and  rush  me  off  to  a  corner.     The 
next  man  I  marry  has  to  build  me  a  house  that's  per 
fectly  round.    I'm  sick  of  corners.   (JEFFREY  laughs.) 
And  I'm  sick  of  other  women's  husbands,  too. 
JEFFREY.     Including  me? 

ANGY.  I  haven't  had  enough  of  your  society  since 
your  wife  came  home  to  get  tired  of  you,  and  as  I'm 
not  going  to  have  any  of  it  to-day,  I  may  as  well  go 
home.  (She  rises  and  starts  toward  the  terrace. 
JEFFREY  follozvs  her.) 

JEFFREY.  Oh,  wait,  Angy,  I (He  stops,  ar 
rested  by  the  appearance  of  NANCY  and  MRS.  WYNNE 
entering  from  the  terrace.  NANCY  is  surprised  at 
the  sight  of  ANGY,  then  conies  toward  her.  NANCY'S 
manner  is  polite  but  not  cordial.) 

NANCY.  How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Brice?  Oh,  Jeff! 
I  was  so  sorry  we  couldn't  come  to  the  club. 

JEFFREY.  (Coldly)  That's  all  right.  Sylvia  ex 
plained. 

ANGY.  Oh,  Mrs.  Fair,  I  don't  know  what  you 
must  have  thought  of  me  running  away  with  Jeff  last 
night. 

NANCY.    Didn't  even  know  you  did ! 


THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  47 

ANGY.  I  wanted  to  stay  and  tell  you  how  splendid 
you  were,  but  I  was  rather  upset. 

MRS.  WYNNE.  (Smiling)  Yes.  Don't  you  hate 
to  hang  around  where  another  woman  is  making  the 
hit? 

NANCY.  That  doesn't  often  happen  where  Mrs. 
Brice  is.  Does  it,  Jeff? 

ANGY.     Oh,  really. 

NANCY.  You  will  have  to  excuse  me.  I  have  to 
put  on  my  hat  and  powder  my  nose.  Come  along, 
Biddy. 

JEFFREY.    Are  you  going  out  again,  Nancy? 

NANCY.    Yes,  dear,  going  over  to  the  Club. 

ANGY.  Oh,  then  may  I  borrow  your  nice  hus 
band  to  help  me  with  some  stupid  business  things  ? 

NANCY.    If  you'll  be  sure  to  return  him. 

ANGY.  I  always  have,  haven't  I  ?  See  you  later, 
Jeff. 

JEFFREY.    If  I  can  manage  it. 

ANGY.  Good-bye,  Mrs.  Wynne ;  give  my  love  to 
dear  old  Wynne.  Good-bye,  Mrs.  Fair.  Hope  the 
photographs  are  a  success.  I  wish  somebody  wanted 
to  take  mine.  It  must  be  lovely  to  be  notorious. 
(She  smiles  very  sweetly,  then  goes  down  the  steps 
through  the  garden  to  the  left.) 

NANCY.    Sweet  woman! 

MRS.  WYNNE.  She's  some  fast  worker  with  the 
harpon.  Bye-bye,  Jeff.  (She  goes.  NANCY  is  fol 
lowing  her,  but  at  the  door  to  the  hall  she  stops,  looks 
at  JEFFREY,  who  is  standing  at  the  fireplace,  then  ad 
vances  toward  him.) 

NANCY.    Jeff,  dear,  why  don't  you  come  with  us  ? 

JEFFREY.    What  are  you  going  to  do? 

NANCY.  Mr.  Gillette  wants  a  photograph  of  me 
with  my  girls  on  the  steps  of  the  clubhouse. 

JEFFREY.     Absurd  idea! 

NANCY.    Why,  what's  absurd  about  it  ?    You  and 


48  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

Alan  were  photographed  in  the  Father  and  Son 
Tournament. 

JEFFREY.  That's  different.  I'm  guyed  enough  by 
the  crowd  as  it  is.  I  can't  pick  up  a  magazine  at  the 
club  without  someone  asking  me  if  I'm  looking  for 
the  Major's  picture.  (He  comes  to  her  angrily.)  I 
can't  come  into  this  house  without  falling  over  a 
camera,  or  finding  some  interviewer  smoking  my  best 
cigars. 

NANCY.  (Taken  aback)  I'm  sorry.  I  don't 
know  quite  how  I  would  explain  to  Mr.  Gillette  and 
the  girls  that  you  object 

JEFFREY.  Don't  let  me  embarrass  you.  If  you 
want  to  go  on  making  yourself  and  your  family  ri 
diculous,  don't  let  me  stop  you.  (He  starts  toward 
the  door  to  the  terrace.  NANCY  is  indignant,  then 
controls  herself.) 

NANCY.     (Expostulating)    Jeff ! 

JEFFREY.     (Turning)     Yes? 

NANCY.    I  didn't  think 

JEFFREY.  No.  You  never  think  about  anybody 
but  yourself. 

(NANCY  stands,   annoyed,   hurt,   speechless.     GIL 
LETTE  enters  hurriedly  from  the  terrace.) 

GILLETTE.  Oh,  Mrs.  Fair (Sees  JEFFREY.,) 

I  beg  your  pardon. 

JEFFREY.  Oh,  that's  all  right.  (He  goes,  meeting 
SYLVIA  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  to  the  garden.  They 
talk.  GILLETTE  watches  NANCY  narrowly.  There 
is  a  slight  pause,  then  NANCY  turns  to  go.) 

GILLETTE.  Mrs.  Fair,  are  you  going  to  .sign  that 
contract  to-day? 

NANCY.  I  haven't  decided.  I'll  let  you  know  be 
fore  the  day  is  out.  I'll  be  right  down.  (She  goes, 
GILLETTE  looking  after  her,  annoyed.  JEFFREY 
leaves  SYLVIA  and  goes  through  the  garden  in  the 


THE   FAMOUS   MRS.    FAIR  49 

direction  taken  by  ANGY.    SYLVIA  runs  up  steps  and 
comes  into  the  room.     GILLETTE  turns  to  her.) 

GILLETTE.    Aren't  you  coming  with  us  ? 
•  SYLVIA.    No.     Miss  Gibbs  is  coming  to  tea. 

GILLETTE.    Who's  she? 

SYLVIA.    Alan's  buddy's  sister. 

GILLETTE.  (Thoughtfully)  Gibbs?  What's  her 
brother's  name? 

SYLVIA.     Tom  Gibbs. 

GILLETTE.  (Quickly)  Tom  Gibbs?  What  does 
he  do? 

SYLVIA.    Arrests  people. 

GILLETTE.     (Startled)     What? 

SYLVIA.  He's  a  detective.  Same  thing  as  a  police 
man,  only  he  doesn't  wear  a  uniform  or  stand  on 
the  corner. 

GILLETTE.  I  know  what  a  detective  is !  Are  these 
Gibbs  friends  of  yours? 

SYLVIA.    Oh,  yes. 

GILLETTE.  That's  queer.  They  don't  belong  in 
your  set. 

SYLVIA.  Oh,  Dudley,  you  mustn't  be  a  snob.  It 
isn't  being  done  since  the  war. 

GILLETTE.    What  does  Miss  Gibbs  do  now? 

SYLVIA.  She  is  a  stenographer.  Why  are  you  so 
interested  in  her? 

GILLETTE.  Interested  in  her!  With  you  here! 
(He  goes  over  to  SYLVIA,  who  is  seated  in  the  arm 
chair.  His  manner  becomes  subtly,  almost  impu 
dently,  familiar.  He  flatters  SYLVIA  in  order  to  ex 
tract  information  from  her.) 

SYLVIA.    You're  not  interested  in  me. 

GILLETTE.    I  wouldn't  dare  tell  you  how  much. 

SYLVIA.    Why  not  ? 

GILLETTE.     Your  mother  wouldn't  like  it. 

SYLVIA.     She's  not  here. 

GILLETTE.  But  she  will  be.  Think  your  mother 
will  sign  that  contract? 


50  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

SYLVIA.  I  don't  know.  (Girlishly,  but  not  flirta 
tiously)  Why  don't  you  tell  me  why  you're  inter 
ested  in  me  ? 

GILLETTE.  (Leaning  over  the  arm  of  chair.) 
Don't  tempt  me,  you  little  siren. 

SYLVIA.     I'm  not. 

GILLETTE.    You're  a  regular  little  baby  vamp. 

SYLVIA.    You  mustn't.    You're  dreadfully  bold. 

GILLETTE.    You  like  it,  don't  you  ? 

SYLVIA.  Uh  huh.  (Giggling.)  It's  funny,  but 
you  shouldn't 

GILLETTE.  (Leaning  over  so  that  his  face  is  very 
close  to  SYLVIA'S,)  You  shouldn't  be  so  fascinating. 
(SYLVIA  is  a  little  embarrassed,  but  is  enjoying  it. 
GILLETTE,  feeling  that  he  has  impressed  her  suffi 
ciently,  turns  away  and  in  business-like  tone  and  man 
ner  begins  to  question  her.)  Has  your  mother  said 
anything  about  signing  the  contract? 

SYLVIA.  (Disappointed)  I  don't  know.  (She 
rises  slowly  and  goes  to  the  mantel,  her  back  toward 
GILLETTE,  who  is  not  looking  at  her.) 

GILLETTE.    Do  you  think  your  father  will  object? 

SYLVIA.     (Impatiently)    I  don't  know. 

GILLETTE.  Do  you  think  that  Alan  will  put  his 
oar  in  to  prevent  your  mother 

SYLVIA.  (Angrily)  Oh,  I  don't  know!  (She 
stamps  her  foot  and  starts  to  go.  GILLETTE  realizes 
his  mistake.) 

GILLETTE.    Why,  Sylvia,  what's  the  matter? 

SYLVIA.  (Flaring  out)  Oh,  it's  always  mother, 
mother,  mother.  I'm  sure  Alan  needn't  worry  about 

my  flirt (She  stops  abruptly  and  turns  away, 

confused.  GILLETTE  smiles.) 

GILLETTE.    About  your  what? 

SYLVIA.    Oh,  nothing. 

GILLETTE.    Flirting  with  me? 

SYLVIA.    I  didn't  say  it. 

GILLETTE.    You  were  going  to. 


THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  51 

SYLVIA.  I  won't  tell  you.  (Very  much  embar 
rassed,  she  runs  away  to  the  other  side  of  the  room. 
GILLETTE  loo-ks  at  her  as  though  what  she  had  said 
had  given  him  an  idea.) 

GILLETTE.  (Slowly)  It  had  never  occurred  to  me. 
(SYLVIA  turns  quickly.)  I  mean,  that  you  would. 

SYLVIA.  Well,  I  wouldn't,  Mr.  Dudley  Gillette,  so 
there !  (She  goes  toward  the  door  to  the  hall.  GIL 
LETTE  is  much  amused.  NORA  shows  in  PEGGY 

GlBBS.J 

SYLVIA.  Oh,  Peggy,  dear!  Nora,  tell  Mr.  Alan 
that  Miss  Gibbs  is  here. 

(NoRA  exits.  GILLETTE  has  turned  and  starts  slight 
ly  at  the  sight  of  PEGGY,  who  is  a  girl  of  twenty- 
five,  sincere,  clear-thinking,  practical,  yet  not 
lacking  in  feminine  charm  and  humor.  She 
wears  a  severely  plain  yet  modish  frock.) 

SYLVIA.    Peggy,  may  I  present  Mr.  Gillette? 

GILLETTE.     (Bowing)     Miss  Gibbs. 

PEGGY.     (Pussled)    I  think  we've  met  before. 

GILLETTE.     (On  his  guard)     Really? 

SYLVIA.    Where? 

PEGGY.  At  the  War  Relief  Bazaar  in  1914.  I 
was  a  volunteer  there. 

SYLVIA.    The  one  there  was  all  the  scandal  about  ? 

GILLETTE.  (Casually)  I  do  remember  something 
about  it.  But  I  wasn't  in  New  York  then. 

PEGGY.     Then  I'm  mistaken. 

GILLETTE.  (Impressively)  Yes.  I'm  sure  if  I 
ever  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  you  it  would  have 
been  utterly  impossible  for  me  to  forget  you. 

(PEGGY,  annoyed  at  the  flattery,  turns  away.  SYLVIA 
is  pleased  and  smiles  at  GILLETTE.  NANCY  en 
ters,  wearing  a  hat,  carrying  gloves  and  a  para 
sol.  She  is  followed  by  MRS.  WYNNE.,) 


52  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR 

NANCY.    I'm  ready,  Mr.  Gillette. 
SYLVIA.     Oh,  Mother 

(NANCY  turns'    SYLVIA  and  PEGGY  advance  to  her.) 

NANCY.  (Shaking  hands)  Oh,  is  this  Miss 
Gibbs  ?  Sylvia  told  me  you  were  coming  to  tea.  I'm 
so  glad  to  meet  you.  I've  heard  of  you  from  Sylvia 
and  of  course  Alan's  told  me  all  about  your  wonder 
ful  brother. 

PEGGY.  This  is  a  great  pleasure  for  me.  I've 
heard  so  much  of  you  and  I've  been  so  thrilled  by 
all  the  great  things  you've  done. 

NANCY.  Oh,  Sylvia,  isn't  that  sweet !  Oh,  Biddy, 
isn't  that  charming!  (To  PEGGYJ  This  is  Mrs. 
Wynne,  one  of  my  unit.  I  wonder  if  you  are  going 
to  be  very  generous  and  forgive  me  if  I  run  away 
for  a  few  minutes  ?  Something  unexpected  and  im 
portant.  I'll  hurry  back  as  fast  as  I  can,  for  I  want 
to  have  a  real  visit  with  you. 

PEGGY.    Of  course.    Don't  let  me  interfere. 

NANCY.  That's  all  very  understanding  of  you.  I 
won't  be  ten  minutes.  Sylvia  will  take  excellent 
care  of  you.  (She  goes,  followed  by  MRS.  WYNNE 
and  GILLETTE.  They  disappear  through  the  garden, 
PEGGY  watching  them  from  the  door  as  they  go.) 

SYLVIA.     Well? 

PEGGY.    Oh,  Sylvia,  she's  charming. 

SYLVIA.    Have  I  said  too  much  about  her? 

PEGGY.    Not  half  enough. 

(ALAN,   in  immaculate  flannels,  comes  rushing  in 
from  the  door  to  the  hall.) 

ALAN.  Peggy!  (PEGGY  turns.  ALAN  goes  to  her 
quickly  and  puts  his  arms  around  her.)  Don't  look, 
Sylvia. 

PEGGY.     (Expostulating)    Oh,  Alan! 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  53 

(ALAN  kisses  her.) 

ALAN.     Now,  where's  mother  ? 

SYLVIA.  She's  gone  to  be  photographed  at  the 
Club. 

ALAN.  What!  That's  the  limit!  Didn't  she 
know  Peggy  was  coming? 

PEGGY.  I've  just  met  her  and  she's  made  her  ex 
cuses  and  is  coming  right  back. 

ALAN.     Oh ! 

PEGGY.  You'd  better  |'Oh."  Sylvia,  has  he  al 
ways  spoken  before  he  thinks? 

SYLVIA.     Always. 

ALAN.     Where's  Dad? 

SYLVIA.  I'll  get  him.  He  is  at  Mrs.  Brice's.  (She 
goes.) 

PEGGY.  Oh,  Alan,  I'm  going  to  love  your  mother. 
I  hope  she  likes  me. 

ALAN.    You  should  worry. 

PEGGY.    That's  just  what  I'm  doing — worrying. 

ALAN.  Well,  if  anybody  in  my  family  doesn't  like 
you,  you  know  what  they  can  do,  don't  you? 

PEGGY.  Yes.  Make  it  distinctly  uncomfortable 
for  you. 

ALAN.  Well,  anyway,  I'm  going  to  announce  our 
engagement  to-day. 

PEGGY.  Why,  if  Sylvia  had  told  me  that  I  wouldn't 
have  come.  She  said  that  you  simply  wanted  to  in 
troduce  me  to  your  father  and  mother. 

ALAN.    I  didn't  tell  her  in  what  capacity. 

PEGGY.  Please,  Alan,  let  your  mother  get  to  know 
me  first.  If  you  thrust  me  at  her  it  may  prejudice 
her. 

ALAN.  Nonsense.  What's  more,  I'm  going  to  tell 
them  that  we  are  to  be  married  right  away. 

PEGGY.  We  are  not.  I'm  not  going  to  be  rushed 
into  marriage. 


54  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

ALAN.  Rushed?  Why,  I've  known  you  eight 
weeks. 

PEGGY.  Yes,  you  had  me  engaged  to  you  before 
I  knew  what  was  happening  to  me. 

ALAN.  Only  way  to  handle  you.  If  you  get  too 
much  time  to  think 

PEGGY.  I'm  going  to  have  a  good  long  think  be 
fore  I  get  married. 

ALAN.  It's  cold,  then.  Good-bye,  darling.  (He 
moves  away.  PEGGY  follows  him.) 

PEGGY.  Oh,  be  sensible.  How  can  we  be  mar 
ried? 

ALAN.  Why,  you  have  a  license  and  a  ring  and  a 
minister 

PEGGY.  Yes,  and  money  that  you've  earned,  not 
that  you  get  from  your  father. 

ALAN.    Don't  need  his  money.    I've  got  a  job. 

PEGGY.    What?    What  sort  of  a  job? 

ALAN.    That's  my  secret. 

PEGGY.  Oh,  is  it  so  bad  that  you're  ashamed  of 
it? 

ALAN.  Bad  enough  to  pay  me  thirty  dollars  a 
week! 

PEGGY.  I  knew  that  you  had  hypnotic  charm  for 
women.  What  did  you  do  to  the  man?  Frighten 
him? 

ALAN.    No.    He  used  to  be  my  top  sergeant. 

PEGGY.    Oh,  that  explains  it. 

ALAN.    I  thought  you'd  be  pleased. 

PEGGY.  Did  he  get  himself  a  little  job?  Oh,  dar 
ling,  I'm  only  funning.  I'm  very  proud  of  you. 

ALAN.     Then  you'll  marry  me? 

PEGGY.     Can't  we  wait  until 

ALAN.  Look  here.  I  postponed  our  marriage  to 
wait  for  a  family  reunion  that  didn't  "reune."  Then 
I  had  to  wait  until  I  got  a  job.  Well,  I  have  one. 
Now  it's  up  to  you.  If  you  don't  want  to  marry  me, 
say  so. 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR  55 

PEGGY.  I  do,  Alan.  You  know  I  do.  But  I  want 
your  father  and  mother  to  appprove.  There  is  a 
chance  they  mightn't  like  me. 

ALAN.  You're  not  marrying  them.  Who  are  you 
marrying,  darling? 

PEGGY.    (Mischievously)    None  of  your  business. 

ALAN.  Just  for  that,  you  sassy  little  devil 

(He  tries  to  take  PEGGY  in  his  arms.  She  dodges 
and  runs  away.  ALAN  catches  her  and  swings  her 
around  into  his  arms.  They  are  laughing  and  strug 
gling,  their  backs  to  the  door  to  the  terrace  at  which 
JEFFREY  appears.  He  stands  amazed  at  what  seems 
to  be  ALAN'S  efforts  to  kiss  a  girl  against  her  will. 
He  frowns  in  annoyance  and  starts  toward  them.) 

JEFFREY.     (Sharply)     Alan ! 

ALAN.  (Over  his  shoulder)  It's  all  right,  Dad. 
We're  engaged.  (PEGGY,  who  has  ceased  to  struggle 
at  the  sound  of  JEFFREY'S  voice,  is  kissed  by  ALAN, 
then  released.  She  is  much  embarrassed.  ALAN 
crosses  to  JEFFREY,  leading  PEGGY  by  the  hand.) 
Dad,  this  is  Peggy. 

JEFFREY.    Peggy  ? 

ALAN.    Peggy  Gibbs. 

JEFFREY.    (Coldly)    How  do  you  do,  Miss  Gibbs  ? 

PEGGY.    Mr.  Fair. 

ALAN.    Well,  Dad,  I  suppo'se  you're  surprised. 

JEFFREY.  (Sarcastically)  Has  the  engagement 
just  occurred? 

ALAN.    Oh,  no ;  it's  a  month  old. 

JEFFREY.    Really,  Alan,  I 

ALAN.  Dad,  don't  be  hurt  because  we  didn't  tell 
you. 

PEGGY.  Alan  didn't  want  to  spoil  his  mother's 
home-coming  by  the  announcement. 

ALAN.    It  wasn't  my  idea  at  all :  it  was  Peggy's. 

JEFFREY.  Why  should  this  engagement  distress 
your  mother? 


56  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

ALAN.  You  see,  Dad,  Peggy  is  my  "buddy's" 
sister. 

JEFFREY.     Yes  ? 

PEGGY.  Oh,  Alan,  let  us  be  frank.  (To  JEF 
FREY,)  It  annoys  him  when  I  say  it,  but  I'm  not  of 
your  class.  I'm  a  stenographer. 

ALAN.    (Proudly)     She's  a  private  secretary. 

JEFFREY.    What  is  the  difference? 

PEGGY.    Twenty  dollars  a  week. 

JEFFREY.    Thank  you ;  I  deserved  that. 

ALAN.    Well,  Dad,  are  you  for  me  or  "agin"  me  ? 

JEFFREY.    That  depends. 

ALAN.     On  what? 

PEGGY.  (Hastily)  On  me.  You  can't  expect 
your  father  to  give  a  snap  judgment  on  a  person  he 
has  just  met.  Suppose  you  leave  us  together  so  that 
we  can  have  a  little  talk.  (She  moves  away.) 

JEFFREY.    A  very  good  idea. 

(ALAN  goes  to  PEGGY.) 

ALAN.  (Whispering)  Don't  be  nervous,  dear. 
Dad's  aces.  (He  kisses  PEGGY,  then  goes  to  JEF 
FREY.)  Now,  Dad,  no  heavy  father  stuff.  (He 
leaves  them.) 

JEFFREY.    Won't  yon  be  seated  ? 

PEGGY.  Thank  you.  (She  sits  on  the  couch. 
JEFFREY  brings  a  chair  and  sits  facing  her.) 

JEFFREY.    Well,  Miss  Gibbs? 

PEGGY.  To  begin  with,  Mr.  Fair,  my  family  and 
I  are,  socially  speaking,  a  total  loss. 

JEFFREY.     In  what  way? 

PEGGY.  My  father  is  the  village  postman.  My 
brother  is  now  in  the  Detective  Bureau,  but  was  a 
policeman. 

JEFFREY.     I  see. 

PEGGY.    (Drily)    Yes,  I  thought  you  would.    My 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  57 

mother  does  her  own  work,  but  the  weekly  washing 
is  sent  out. 

JEFFREY.  Very  interesting,  especially  that  bit 
about  the  laundry. 

PEGGY.  I  graduated  from  High  School,  then  went 
to  Brown's  Business  College.  I  am  now  employed 
at  forty  dollars  a  week  as  a  private  secretary  in  the 
office  of  a  firm  of  lawyers,  O'Brien  and  Rosenweber. 

JEFFREY.     I  know  of  them. 

PEGGY.  I  am  twenty-three  years  old,  quite  healthy, 
am  supposed  to  have  a  good  disposition.  Oh,  there 
is  one  thing  more:  I'm  a  suffragette,  and  while  I 
am  not  militant,  I  do  parade.  I  believe  that  is  all. 

JEFFREY.  And  you  have  Thursdays  off?  My  dear 
Miss  Gibbs,  I'm  not  interviewing  you  as  a  prospec 
tive  servant,  but  as  a  possible  daughter-in-law. 

PEGGY.  Well,  you  wanted  to  know  about  me, 
didn't  you  ? 

JEFFREY.  You  suggested  the  interview.  I  appre 
ciate  that  it's  a  very  difficult  one  for  you.  It  isn't 
exactly  easy  for  me.  Yet,  if  I  didn't  learn  some 
thing  of  the  girl  my  son  wishes  to  marry,  I  would 
be  failing  in  my  duty  as  a  father,  wouldn't  I  ? 

PEGGY.    Yes. 

JEFFREY.    Why  are  you  so  on  the  defensive? 

PEGGY.    Possibly  because  I'm  a  little  afraid. 

JEFFREY.  Surely  not  of  me  ?  Unless  you're  mar 
rying  Alan  for 

PEGGY.  For  money  and  this  sort  of  thing?  No! 
Not  that  I  wouldn't  like  it  and  enjoy  it,  but  only  if 
Alan  earned  it.  And  he  will  in  time.  He's  made  a 
start  He  has  a  job. 

JEFFREY,  Why  didn't  he  come  to  me  for  a  po 
sition  ?  • 

PEGGY.  Oh^  Mr.  Fair,  please  don't  help  him. 
That  would  spoil  all  my  plans. 

JEFFREY.    (Surprised)    How  ? 


58  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.    FAIR 

PEGGY.  It's  better  for  him  to  be  entirely  on 
his  own. 

JEFFREY.    (Puzzled)    Why  ? 

PEGGY.  The  dear  boy  is  full  of  the  brotherhood 
of  man.  He  got  that  from  the  trenches,  and  if  he 
is  going  to  keep  it,  it's  necessary  for  him  to  live 
simply  for  a  time  at  least. 

JEFFREY.  Sounds  to  me  like  a  very  serious  court 
ship. 

PEGGY.  Is  anything  more  serious  than  marriage] 
I'm  scared  to  death  of  it. 

JEFFREY.     (Amused)    Why  ? 

PEGGY.  I  have  to  give  up  a  great  deal  of  my  lib 
erty  and  I  want  to  be  sure  it's  worth  it.  Oh,  dear 
life  and  what  to  do  with  it  and  Alan's  problem  anc 
mine  seems  so  much  simpler  on  our  back  veranda 
I  suppose  my  family  are  right. 

JEFFREY.  (Surprised)  Doesn't  your  family  ap 
prove  of  the  marriage? 

PEGGY.     Not  at  all. 

JEFFREY.  (Indignantly)  Well,  I Don't  the} 

like  my  son?  (He  rises.) 

PEGGY.    (Smiling)    I  like  you  for  that. 

JEFFREY.    (Sputtering)    Well,  I 

PEGGY.  Oh,  they  are  devoted  to  Alan,  but  the) 
can't  see  any  happiness  in  the  marriage  for  me 
They're  afraid  that  the  two  families  won't  harmon 
ize. 

JEFFREY.  That's  true;  they  mightn't.  (There  i: 
a  slight  pause.)  It  seems  to  me  you  love  my  son. 

PEGGY.    Very  much. 

JEFFREY.  Then  if  I  were  Alan  and  you  were  you 
I'd  marry  you  and  say  damn  the  families. 

PEGGY.  Oh,  Mr.  Fair!  (She  rises  impulsively 
starts  as  though  to  embrace  him,  catches  herself  anc 
recedes  a  little.  JEFFREY  follows  her,  inviting  her  U 
embrace  him.  They  laugh.) 


THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  59 

JEFFREY.  Now  we  will  put  Alan  out  of  his  misery. 
(Calls)  Alan!  Come  here,  young  man. 

(ALAN,  who  has  been  in  the  hall  awaiting  the  ver 
dict,  comes  in  quickly.  He  looks  anxiously  at 
JEFFREY.,) 

ALAN.     Well? 

JEFFREY.  Son,  I  hope  you  appreciate  how  lucky 
you  are. 

ALAN.  (Joyfully)  Dad !  (He  goes  quickly  to 
PEGGY./  Excuse  us.  (He  kisses  her.) 

JEFFREY.  I  could  do  with  one  myself.  (PEGGY 
crosses  to  JEFFREY  and  offers  her  lips  to  him  shyly. 
He  kisses  her  tenderly.)  Now,  young  man,  what  is 
this  job? 

ALAN.  It's  with  the  Iverson  Construction  Com 
pany.  Time-keeper. 

JEFFREY.  Well,  you  held  the  interscholastic  record 
of  America  for  wasting  time.  It's  up  to  you  to  keep 
a  little. 

ALAN.     Dad,  that's  pretty  awful. 

JEFFREY.     Peggy  smiled. 

ALAN.    Brazen  truckling  to  her  father-in-law. 

SYLVIA.     (Running  in)     Is  it  all  right? 

JEFFREY.  If  you  mean  Peggy,  she's  very  much  all 
right. 

SYLVIA.  (Delightedly)  Oh,  wait  until  you  know 
her.  Now  I  wish  mother  would  come. 

JEFFREY.     So  she  went  to  the  club  after  all. 

SYLVIA.  Yes.  She  won't  be  long.  (She  goes  up 
to  the  door  to  the  terrace  and  looks  off  toward  the 
entrance  to  the  garden.) 

JEFFREY.  (Annoyed)  Did  she  know  that  Peggy 
was  coming  here  this  afternoon? 

PEGGY.  (Hastily)  Oh,  yes,  I  met  Mrs.  Fair  and 
she  explained. 


60  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

JEFFREY.     Left  you  here.    That's  most  annoying. 
SYLVIA.    Here  is  mother  now. 

(NANCY  hurries  in.) 

NANCY.  You  see,  Miss  Gibbs,  I  haven't  been  long. 
Oh,  you  haven't  had  tea.  Sylvia,  clear,  take  mother's 
things  and  tell  them  to  bring  tea  right  in.  (SYLVIA, 
taking  NANCY'S  hat  and  gloves,  runs  out.  NANCY 
goes  to  the  telephone  on  the  table.)  I  must  'phone 
to  the  Colony  Club  right  away. 

JEFFREY.     (Irritably)     Can't  that  wait? 

NANCY.     It's  very  important. 

JEFFFREY.  (Severely)  More  important  than  to 
pay  some  attention  to  the  girl  your  son  is  going  to 
marry  ? 

(NANCY  looks  at  JEFFREY,  dazed,  then  slowly  turns 
her  regard  upon  PEGGY,  then  on  ALAN.^ 

NANCY.    Alan,  how  long  have  you  been  engaged? 

ALAN.    Since  the  day  before  you  came  home. 

NANCY.    A  ntonth  ago.    Why  didn't  you  tell  me  ? 

PEGGY.  I'm  to  blame,  Mrs.  Fair.  I  didn't  want 
Alan  to  tell  you  because  I  feared  it  might  distress  you 
and  spoil  your  home-coming. 

NANCY.    Why  should  it  do  either  ? 

ALAN.  Peggy's  afraid  that  because  she's  a  sten 
ographer — you — 

NANCY.  What  right  had  Miss  Gibbs  to  judge  how 
I  would  receive  the  news  of  my  son's  engagement? 

PEGGY.  I  can  see  now  what  I  did  might  be  mis 
judged,  but  really  my  motives — 

ALAN.    It  isn't  necessary  to  explain  your  motives. 

JEFFREY.    I  can  vouch  for  Peggy. 

ALAN.  Thank  you,  Dad,  but  no  one  needs  to 
vouch  for  her.  The  fact  that  I  am  going  to  marry 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  61 

her,  that  Sylvia  loves  her,  and  that  you  approve, 
should  be  enough  for  mother. 

(NANCY  flinches,  but  is  so  shocked  by  the  news  that 
she  says  nothing,  simply  looks  at  ALAN.  Her 
eyes  fill  with  tears,  her  lips  quiver,  and  to  con 
ceal  her  emotion  she  turns  away  and  goes  to  the 
door  to  the  terrace.) 

PEGGY.  Mrs.  Fair,  I  know  what  you  are  thinking 
— feeling.  (NANCY  is  silent.  PEGGY,  distressed, 
turns  to .  JEFFREY.,)  It  is  much  better  that  I  should 

go- 

JEFFREY.  Perhaps  it  would  be  as  well.  Alan,  take 
Peggy  to  the  station. 

(ALAN  and  PEGGY  go.  NANCY  turns,  stretches  out 
her  hand  as  if  to  stop  them.  Then,  covering  her 
face  with  her  hands,  she  stands  crying  silently. 
JEFFREY,  ashamed  of  his  outburst,  manlike  takes 
refuge  in  irritation.  He  goes  to  the  table,  picks 
up  a  paper  and  sits,  making  a  pretence  of  read 
ing.  He  waits,  expecting  NANCY  to  speak,  then 
breaks  the  silence.) 

JEFFREY.    You've  made  a  nice  mess  of  things. 

NANCY.     (Surprised)     I  ? 

JEFFREY.  Yes.  If  you  hadn't  been  so  keen  on 
publicity,  all  this  needn't  have  happened. 

NANCY.  (Coming  toward  him)  Do  you  suppose 
if  I  had  been  told  why  Miss  Gibbs  was  coming  here 
that  I  would  have  allowed  a  stupid  photograph  to  in 
terfere?  Isn't  Alan's  engagement  something  that 
could  have  been  told  me  without  shocking  me,  be 
wildering  me  so  that Oh,  you've  made  me  seem 

ungracious  to  my  boy.  It  was  wicked,  cruel  of  you. 
(She  turns  away  and  sits  on  the  couch,  crying.) 


62  THE  FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR 

JEFFREY.  How  did  I  know  you  were  going  to  take 
it  like  this? 

NANCY.    What  did  you  expect  me  to  do? 

JEFFREY.  Open  your  arms  to  her  as  any  mother 
should. 

NANCY.  How  long  have  you  known  of  this  en 
gagement  ? 

JEFFREY.    Not  until  to-day. 

NANCY.  And  did  you  welcome  her  with  out 
stretched  arms  at  once? 

JEFFREY.  Frankly,  I  was  surprised !  But  aft'er  I 
had  had  a  talk  with  her 

NANCY.  Exactly.  You  had  an  opportunity  to 
judge  of  her  before  you  gave  your  approval,  but  I 
am  expected  to  give  at  once  the  son  I've  loved, 
watched  over,  prayed  for,  to  a  girl  of  whom  I  know 
nothing. 

JEFFREY.    I  told  you  I  vouched  for  her. 

(NANCY,  in  a  rage,  springs  to  her  feet.) 

NANCY.    What's  that  to  me  ?    He's  my  son,  too. 

JEFFREY.    That's  jealousy  talking. 

NANCY.  Is  it  strange  that  I  should  be  jealous? 
Isn't  it  hard  for  any  mother  at  first  to  give  her  son 
to  another  woman  ?  If  Alan  had  had  any  right  feel 
ing  for  me  he  would  have  told  me  tenderly,  tactfully, 
that  he  loved  someone  else  more  than  me.  Instead, 
he  let  you  thrust  the  fact  at  me.  I  don't  know  what 
I  have  ever  done  that  he  should  have  told  you,  even 
Sylvia,  before  me ;  made  me  feel  like  an  outsider. 

JEFFREY.  Who  is  to  blame  for  that?  You  put 
yourself  outside  your  home.  You  can't  hope  to  re 
ceive  Alan's  confidence  if  you  are  never  here  to  get 
it.  You  can't  go  on  neglecting  you/  family 

NANCY.  (Indignantly)  What?  I  give  up  every 
body  and  everything  belonging  to  me  and  endure 
privations,  horrors,  because  I  think  it's  my  greatest 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  63 

duty,  and  then  I  am  neglecting  my  family!  (Bit 
terly)  My  family  seems  to  have  gotten  along  very 
well  without  me.  Ever  since  I  came  home  you  and 
Alan  have  resented  everything  I've  done. 

JEFFREY.  We  don't  approve  of  what  you've  been 
doing.  (He  rises  and  begins  to  pace  up  and  down.) 

NANCY.  (Scornfully)  Approve!  Must  I  secure 
the  approval  of  my  husband  and  my  son  for  what  I 
think  best  to  do? 

JEFFREY.  Your  desire  to  appear  in  public,  for  in 
stance  ? 

NANCY.  (Very  calmly)  If  you  had  been  over 
seas  and  had  been  urged  to  appear  in  public,  would 
you  have  had  to  ask  my  approval?  No.  It  would 
have  been  the  perfectly  natural  thing  for  you  to  do. 

JEFFREY.     It's  not  the  same  thing. 

NANCY.  Because  I'm  a  woman.  Well,  this  war 
has  settled  one  thing  definitely.  A  woman's  work 
counts  for  just  as  much  as  a  man's  and  she  is  en 
titled  to  all  the  rewards  it  brings  her.  (Her  calm 
ness  maddens  JEFFREY.  He  advances  on  her  furi 
ously.) 

JEFFREY.  You've  done  your  duty  by  your  coun 
try,  but,  by  God,  you're  capitalizing  it. 

NANCY.     (Turning  upon  him)    Jeffrey! 

JEFFREY.  Ever  since  you've  been  home  you've 
thought  of  everything  but  your  duty  to  your  family. 
All  you  think  of  is  your  appearance  at  public  func 
tions,  getting  your  name  and  photograph  in  print. 
Can  you  deny  that  you  are  eager  to  sign  that  con 
tract  so  that  you  can  make  a  triumphant  tour  of  the 
country,  telling  the  great  American  public  how  you 
helped  win  the  war?  Well,  you'll  put  an  end  to  all 
this  publicity.  You'll  stop  all  these  ridiculous  lec 
tures.  You'll  tear  up  that  contract.  You'll  give  up 
this  tour  and  remain  where  you  belong. 

NANCY.  (Very  quietly)  And  why  must  I  do  all 
this?  Why  must  I  remain  here  where  I  belong? 


64  THE  FAMOUS   MRS.    FAIR 

JEFFREY.      (Emphatically)     Because   I  am  your 
husband  and  I  forbid  you  to  go. 

(They  look  at  each  other  for  an  instant  in  silence. 
JEFFREY,  feeling  that  he  is  master  of  the  situa 
tion,  walks  slowly  away  and  stands  at  the  fire 
place,  his  back  toward  NANCY,  who  smiles  satiri 
cally,  then  goes  quietly  to  the  table.  She  sits, 
draws  the  contract,  which  is  on  the  table,  to  her, 
and  signs  it.  At  the  sound  of  the  scratching  of 
her  pen  JEFFREY  turns  quickly.  He  crumples 
the  folded  newspaper  in  his  hand  and  throws  it 
irritably  on  the  chair.  NANCY  rises.  They  are 
standing  facing  each  other  in  defiance  as  the 


CURTAIN  FALLS 


THE  THIRD  ACT 

The  sitting-room  of  JEFFREY  FAIR'S  apartment  in  a 
Nezv  York  hotel.  The  decorations,  furnishings 
and  appointments  are  tasteful,  luxurious  and 
characteristic  of  a  modern  "smart"  hotel.  On 
the  left  are  double  doors  to  the  private  hall  and 
a  door  to  a  bedroom;  at  the  back  is  a  large  win 
dow  and  at  the  right  a  fireplace  and  a  door  to 
another  bedroom.  A  console  table  with  a  mir 
ror  over  it  stands  against  the  right  wall  below 
the  fireplace,  in  front  of  which  is  a  Lawson  sofa. 
On  the  opposite  side  of  the  room  is  a  writing 
desk,  near  the  window  a  small  table  with  a  tele 
phone,  and  in  the  centre  an  oval  table  to  the  left 
of  which  is  an  armchair.  There  is  a  small  chair 
in  front  of  the  desk,  another  at  the  window  and 
a  third  at  the  back  of  the  centre  table. 

There  are  no  photographs,  books  nor  flozvers; 
in  fact,  there  is  a  noticeable  lack  of  any  attempt 
to  create  a  homelike  atmosphere,  and,  although 
the  room  is  brilliantly  lighted,  the  curtains  drawn 
and  a  fire  in  the  grate,  the  effect  is  one  of  dreari 
ness  in  contrast  to  the  charm  in  the  environment 
in  the  preceding  acts.  It  is  an  evening  in  Octo 
ber. 

As  the  curtain  rises  JEFFREY  enters  from  the 
door  at  the  right  of  the  room.  He  wears  infor 
mal  evening  dress  and  carries  an  overcoat  and 
a  hat  which  he  places  on  the  sofa.  Then  going 
to  the  doors  to  the  hall,  he  opens  them,  showing 
across  the  hall  a  door,  on  which  he  knocks. 

65 


66  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR 

There  is  a  slight  pause  and  he  knocks  again,  call 
ing,  "Sylvia."  There  is  no  response.  He  opens 
the  door,  looks  into  the  room,  then  closing  the 
door  returns  and  goes  to  the  telephone. 

JEFFREY.  Give  me  the  desk,  please.  (A  pause.) 
Is  this  the  desk?  This  is  Mr.  Fair  speaking.  Are 
you  quite  sure  my  daughter  did  not  leave  a  note  for 
Mrs.  Fair?  If  you  find  one,  send  it  up.  By  the  way, 
what  is  the  correct  time  ?  Nine  twenty-three.  Thank 
you. 

(JEFFREY  sets  his  watch,  then  takes  a  cigarette,  lights 
it  and  sits  on  the  couch.  His  attitude  is  one  of 
deep  dejection.  There  is  a  slight  pause,  then 
ALAN  enters  from  the  room  at  the  right.) 

JEFFREY.    (Turning  to  him)    Well,  son? 

ALAN.     (Happily)     It's  all  right. 

JEFFREY.  Made  it  up  with  your  mother  ?  (ALAN 
nods.)  That's  fine.  Did  she  mention  Mrs.  Fair,  Jr.  ? 

ALAN.  Yes.  She  inquired  very  cordially  for 
Peggy.  '(He  sits.) 

JEFFREY.  Did  she  accept  Peggy's  invitation  for 
dinner  ? 

ALAN.  She  couldn't.-  Her  secretary  reminded  her 
that  she  was  to  be  the  guest  of  honor  at  some  ban 
quet  or  other. 

JEFFREY.  (Satirically)  I  suppose  that's  why  she 
came  home. 

ALAN.    Why  wasn't  Sylvia  here  to  meet  mother? 

JEFFREY.  She  wasn't  expected  until  the  day  after 
to-morrow  and  Sylvia  had  made  a  dinner  engage 
ment  that  she  didn't  care  to  break. 

ALAN.  That's  queer.  I  wonder  if  they've  had  a 
quarrel  ? 

JEFFREY.    What  gave  you  that  idea? 

ALAN.    Well,  Peggy  and  I  have  never  been  able 


THE   FAMOUS   MRS.    FAIR  67 

to  get  anything  out  of  Sylvia  as  to  why  she  remained 
only  a  month  on  tour  with  mother. 

JEFFREY.  I  can  understand  just  what  happened. 
Her  mother  was  entertained  a  great  deal.  That  was 
:>art  of  the  game  of  being  the  famous  Mrs.  Fair.  It 
wasn't  possible  to  include  Sylvia  in  all  of  the  func- 
:ions.  Naturally  she  was  bored.  So  she  came  home. 

ALAN.  Considering  they  haven't  seen  each  other 
For  two  months  and  that  this  is  mother's  first  night 
at  home,  it  is  very  selfish  of  Sylvia  not  to  give  up 
one  party. 

JEFFREY.  (Irritably)  Sylvia's  had  to  make  her 
ife  without  her  mother  and  can't  be  expected  to 
drop  everything  whenever  she  chooses  to  appear  on 
the  scene. 

ALAN.  All  right,  Dad,  all  right.  You  are  so 
ouchy  about  Sylvia. 

JEFFREY.  You've  shown  a  disposition  of  late  to 
criticize  your  sister,  and  I  don't  like  it. 

ALAN.  Don't  let  us  scrap  about  Sylvia.  I'm  sorry 
f  I  have  seemed  unkind.  But  you  know,  Dad,  you 
are  spoiling  her. 

JEFFREY.  Oh,  Hell,  why  not?  A  man's  got  to 
lave  some  woman  to  spoil.  Sylvia's  sweet  and  lov- 
ng  to  me.  I  was  mighty  glad  to  have  her  home 
again.  It  would  have  been  a  damn  sight  better  for 
me  if  I  had  never  let  her  go  away. 

ALAN.  Now  with  mother  at  home,  I  suppose 
you'll  give  up  these  rooms  and  go  back  to  the  coun- 
ry? 

JEFFREY.  She's  going  on  another  tour.  (He  rises 
ind  begins  to  walk  about  the  room  restlessly.) 

ALAN.    I  am  disappointed.    Damn  Gillette. 

JEFFREY.     It  isn't  his  fault. 

ALAN.  (Surprised)  You're  not  sticking  up  for 
nm? 

JEFFREY.  He's  not  a  bad  sort  when  you  get  to 
mow  him. 


68  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

ALAN.    You  don't  like  him? 

JEFFREY.  No.  But  I  no  longer  hold  him  respon 
sible  for  your  mother  going  lecturing.  If  it  hadn't 
been  he  it  would  have  been  some  other  manager. 

ALAN.    Gillette's  around  here  a  good  deal,  isn't  he  ? 

JEFFREY.  Yes.  (Bitterly.)  I  wouldn't  deprive 
Sylvia  from  seeing  a  man  who  knows  a  damn  sight 
better  what  her  mother's  doing  than  I  do.  (He  sits 
behind.) 

ALAN.  Sylvia  is  around  with  Gillette  and  his 
crowd  a  lot,  isn't  she? 

JEFFREY.  Yes,  he's  been  very  kind  to  her.  He's 
introduced  her  to  his  friends. 

ALAN.    You've  met  them? 

JEFFREY.     Casually. 

ALAN.     Dancing  a  good  deal,  isn't  she? 

JEFFREY.  Everybody  does.  Keeps  good  hours,  al 
ways  tells  me  where  she's  going. 

ALAN.    Where  is  she  to-night? 

JEFFREY.  I  ought  to  know.  I  don't  remember. 
(Defiantly)  Why? 

ALAN.  (Apologetically)  Oh,  nothing.  It's  get 
ting  late  and  I  wondered  if  I  would  see  her  before 
I  go  home. 

JEFFREY.  (Smiling)  She'll  come  toddling  in  soon, 
bless  her.  I  hope  she's  had  a  good  time. 

ALAN.  By  the  way,  what's  become  of  Angy 
Brice?  Sylvia  never  mentions  her. 

JEFFREY.  (Slightly  confused)  She  hasn't  seen 
Mrs.  Brice.  Don't  you  remember  I  had  this  place 
ready  for  Sylvia  when  she  came  home?  I  thought 
she'd  find  the  country  dull  without  her  mother. 
(Slightly  embarrassed,  he  picks  up  a  magazine,  turns 
over  its  leaves.  ALAN  watches  him  narrowly  as  JEF 
FREY  replies  to  his  questions.) 

ALAN.  (Casually)  Hasn't  Mrs.  Brice  been  in 
town? 

JEFFREY.    Yes. 


THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  69 

ALAN.    Have  you  seen  her? 

JEFFREY.     (Carelessly)    Occasionally. 

ALAN.  Odd  Sylvia  hasn't  looked  her  up.  They 
used  to  be  such  great  pals. 

JEFFREY.  Angy's  too  old  for  Sylvia,  and  Sylvia's 
made  new  friends. 

ALAN.  (Disarmed)  When  mother  goes,  Peggy 
and  I  must  see  Sylvia  oftener.  I'm  afraid  we've  been 
rather  selfish. 

JEFFREY.  Every  newly  married  couple  has  that 
right.  My  boy,  if  your  wife  wants  to  associate  with 
you,  don't  discourage  her. 

ALAN.  Peggy  works  all  day.  I  study  all  evening, 
so  we  don't  have  time  to  get  bored  with  each  other. 

JEFFREY.  I  wish  Peggy  would  give  up  her  job. 
What  the  devil's  the  good  of  all  my  money?  I  can't 
spend  it  all  on  Sylvia. 

ALAN.  Well,  Dad,  if  a  wife  wants  to  work  these 
days,  you  have  to  let  her. 

JEFFREY.  Yes,  but  sometimes  I  wonder  in  this 
modern  scheme  of  things  where  in  hell  the  husband 
belongs. 

ALAN.  Why  don't  you  put  up  an  argument  about 
this  new  tour? 

JEFFREY.  I  put  up  a  good  one  once,  but  she  went, 
didn't  she?  No,  son. 

ALAN.    (Eagerly)    Perhaps  if  I  talked  to  her 

JEFFREY.  (Rising)  Don't  you  complicate  things 
with  her  by  trying  to  force  anything  for  me.  Let 
me  give  you  a  bit  of  advice.  Never  try  to  play  God 
for  your  family.  You  only  raise  the  devil. 

ALAN.    Very  well,  Dad,  you  know  best. 

JEFFREY.  (Ruefully)  Son,  I  don't  know  anything 
any  more.  Don't  you  worry  about  me.  So  long  as 
I  have  Sylvia  I  can  stagger  along.  (He  crosses  and 
gets  his  hat  and  coat.) 

ALAN.     (Surprised)     Are  you  going  out? 

JEFFREY.    Yes. 


70  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

ALAN.    (Rising)    But  mother? 

JEFFREY.  I  wouldn't  dream  of  intruding.  She 
took  great  pains  to  tell  me  at  dinner  that  she  had  a 
stack  of  mail  waiting  for  her  a  mile  high.  Can  I 
drop  you  at  the  subway? 

ALAN.  I'm  not  going  home.  Peggy's  at  the  office 
to-night,  working  on  an  important  case.  I'm  going 
to  call  for  her.  Anyway,  I  think  I'll  leave  a  little 
line  for  Sylvia. 

JEFFREY.     (Pleased)    Fine !    Good  night. 

ALAN.    Good  night. 

JEFFREY.  Give  my  love  to  Peggy.  (He  turns  to 
leave  the  room,  stops,  hesitates,  turns  to  ALAN.J  Tell 
her  if  she  wants  me  to-morrow  night,  I'd  be  very 
glad  to  come. 

ALAN.  (Going  to  him  quickly)  Why,  Dad,  we 
always  want  you. 

(JEFFREY  takes  ALAN'S  outstretched  hand,  puts  his 
arm  around  his  shoulder.) 

JEFFREY.     (Smiling)     Good  night.      (He  goes.) 

(ALAN  -watches  him.  His  lips  quiver;  there  are  tears 
in  his  eyes.  He  brushes  them  away  and  is -start 
ing  towards  the  desk,  when  from  the  door  at  the 
left  of  the  room  NANCY  enters.  She  wears  a 
simple  evening  gown.) 

NANCY.  Oh,  Alan,  I'm  so  glad  you  haven't  gone. 
I  have  been  thinking  it  over  and  I'm  not  going  to 
that  boring  banquet.  I'm  going  to  dine  with  you 
instead. 

ALAN.  That's  bully  of  you,  Mother.  But  it  isn't 
necessary.  You  can  come  another  night. 

NANCY.  No,  no.  I  insist.  I  want  to  telephone 
your  wife  now. 

ALAN.  Peggy's  not  at  home.  She's  at  the  office 
to-night.  I'm  going  down  to  fetch  her. 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  71 

NANCY.  I've  a  nice  idea.  I  wonder  if  she  would 
be  too  tired  to  drop  in  on  the  way  home? 

ALAN.     (Surprised)    To-night  ? 

NANCY.  It's  early,  and—  (Shyly)— if  Peggy  is 
willing,  I'd  love  to  kiss  and  make  up. 

ALAN.     Mother ! 

(He  goes  quickly  to  NANCY  and  takes  her  in  his  arms. 
She  begins  to  cry.  He  kisses  her  and  soothes 
her.) 

NANCY.    My  boy,  my  boy ! 

ALAN.  (Very  much  affected)  There — there — 
mother. 

NANCY.  Alan,  promise  me  you'll  never  be  on  the 
"outs"  with  me  again? 

ALAN.    I  won't.    I  won't. 

NANCY.    It's  almost  made  an  old  woman  of  me. 

ALAN.    It's  been  tough  on  me.     I  was  wrong. 

NANCY.    No,  no,  I  was  to  blame. 

ALAN.     I  won't  stand  for  that. 

NANCY.  Oh,  my  dear,  it  doesn't  matter  who  was 
wrong,  so  that  it's  all  right  now. 

ALAN.    You  bet  it  is,  but — but — 

NANCY.  We  won't  spoil  this  by  any  post-mor 
tems.  (She  kisses  him.)  Did  you  see  your  father? 

ALAN.     Yes. 

NANCY.    Where  is  he? 

ALAN.    He  went  out. 

NANCY.     (Disappointedly)     Oh ! 

ALAN.  He  thought  you~were  too  busy  to  be  dis 
turbed. 

NANCY.  I  sent  my  secretary  away,  but  it  doesn't 
matter. 

ALAN.  I  must  go  for  Peggy.  She'll  be  on  her 
ear. 

NANCY.  Don't  you  think  you  had  better  rescue 
her  ?  Now  hurry  right  back.  Oh,  Alan,  I  have  some- 


72  THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

thing  for  her  and  I  want  you  to  see  if  you  think  she 
will  like  it.  (Tenderly.)  I'm  going  to  see  you  and 
Peggy  very  often  before  I  go  away  again. 

ALAN.    When  do  you  go? 

NANCY.  I  don't  know  just  what  arrangements 
Mr.  Gillette  has  made.  He  is  coming  to  see  me 
about  them  to-night. 

ALAN.  Mother,  do  you  think  you  ought  to  go  ?  I 
mean — ought  to  come  to  us  instead  of  to  that  ban 
quet? 

NANCY.  That's  all  settled.  I  put  them  on  the 
trail  of  another  celebrity. 

(She  laughs  and  goes  into  her  room.  ALAN  is  smil 
ing  happily,  humming  a  little  tune,  when  the 
doors  to  the  hall  open  and  SYLVIA  enters.  She 
is  completely  transformed.  In  dress,  coiffure 
and  manner,  she  is  the  modern  "cutie."  Her 
face  is  rouged,  her  lips  painted.  On  her  head 
at  a  rakish  angle  is  an  ermine  toque  and  wrapped 
about  her  throat  is  an  ermine  stole.  She  saun 
ters  over  to  the  mirror  at  the  right,  greeting 
ALAN  as  she  passes  him.) 

SYLVIA.     (Indifferently)    Hello,  Alan. 

ALAN.    Hello,  Sylvia. 

SYLVIA.    Mother  here  yet? 

ALAN.    Yes. 

SYLVIA.    ("Primping")    What  about  friend  wife? 

ALAN.  It's  all  right.  (Indignantly.)  Why 
weren't  you  here  to  meet  mother  ? 

SYLVIA.     (Carelessly)     I  had  a  very  special  date. 

ALAN.  (Disgustedly)  With  that  Gillette,  I  sup 
pose. 

SYLVIA.    That's  my  affair. 

ALAN.     How  you  or  anyone  else  can 

SYLVIA.  (Crossly)  Alan  Fair,  don't  you  dare  to 
knock  Gillie.  You  don't  like  him — I  do. 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  73 

(Enter  NANCY,  smiling  happily.  She  sees  SYLVIA 
and  is  so  shocked  by  the  change  in  her  appear 
ance  that  she  stops,  speechless.  The  little  jewelry 
box  that  she  is  carrying  falls  from  her  hand. 
SYLVIA,  quite  oblivious  of  the  effect  she  has 
made  on  NANCY,  runs  towards  her.) 

SYLVIA.     Oh,  hello,  Mother. 

(NANCY  cannot  speak.     SYLVIA,  surprised,  stops. 
There  is  a  slight  pause.) 

NANCY.'  (Inarticulately)  Sylvia!  (Heart-brok 
enly)  Sylvia !  Sylvia ! 

(She  rushes  to  SYLVIA,  folds  her  in  her  arms,  kiss 
ing  her  frantically.  SYLVIA  is  happy,  but  rather 
puzzled.) 

SYLVIA.  I  was  awfully  sorry  not  to  be  here.  You 
got  my  note? 

NANCY.    No. 

SYLVIA.  Isn't  that  the  limit?  I  gave  it  to  the 
clerk  myself.  I'll  just  ask  him  "what's  the  idea." 
(She  turns  toward  the  telephone,  and  sees  a  hat  box 
on  the  table.)  Oh,  the  darn  thing  came  at  last.  (She 
opens  the  box  and  takes  out  a  "freakish"  hat.)  I  was 
going  to  wear  this  to-night.  (She  holds  it  up  admir 
ingly.)  Isn't  that  a  sweetie  ? 

ALAN.     (Disgustedly)     Where  did  you  get  it? 

SYLVIA.  (Going  to  the  mirror)  At  Francine's. 
She  makes  for  all  the  smart  chorus  girls.  (She  puts 
it  on,  then  strikes  a  pose.)  How  do  I  look? 

ALAN.    Just  like  a  movie  "cutie." 

NANCY.     (Reprovingly)    Alan ! 

SYLVIA.  Oh,  Mother,  don't  mind  Alan.  He's  al 
ways  knocking  my  taste  in  clothes.  (She  is  furious, 
and,  snatching  the'  hat  off  her  head,  throws  it  into 


74  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.    FAIR 

the  box  and  tosses  it  into  a  corner  of  the  room.  As 
she  turns  away,  NANCY,  who  has  been  watching  her 
in  amazement,  goes  to  ALAN.J 

NANCY.    Oh,  what  have  you  all  done  to  her  ? 

ALAN.    It  isn't  our  fault. 

NANCY.  No,  it's  mine.  (A  slight  pause.)  Alan, 
say  good  night  to  your  sister. 

SYLVIA.    Where's  daddy? 

ALAN.    He's  gone  out.     Mad? 

SYLVIA.    (Kissing  him)    Not  so  you'd  notice  it. 

ALAN.     See  you  later,  Mother.     (He  goes.) 

NANCY.  Well,  darling,  glad  to  have  your  mother 
home  again? 

SYLVIA.  Believe  me,  I  am.  (She  is  wearing  her 
hair  in  exaggerated  curves  over  her  ears.  NANCY 
puts  her  hands  on  either  side  of  SYLVIA'S  face  and 
pushes  the  hair  gently  off  her  cheeks.) 

NANCY.    Why  do  you  wear  your  hair  like  that  ? 

SYLVIA.    Everyone  in  my  crowd  does. 

NANCY.  Come  and  sit  down.  I  want  to  know  all 
that  you've  been  doing. 

SYLVIA.     I  wrote  to  you. 

NANCY.     Not  so  often  lately. 

SYLVIA.  (Resentfully)  With  somethin'  doin' 
every  minute  I  didn't  have  the  time. 

NANCY.  (Quickly)  I'm  not  reproaching  you, 
darling.  Let's  have  a  nice  snuggly  time.  (She  sits 
in  the  armchair,  taking  SYLVIA  on  her  lap.  Then 
drawing  SYLVIA'S  head  down  on  her  shoulder,  puts 
her  arms  about  her,  kisses  her.  SYLVIA  begins  to 
cry.) 

SYLVIA.    My,  I've  missed  this. 

NANCY.  (Very  much  affected)  So  have  I,  dear. 
(She  takes  her  handkerchief  and  wipes  SYLVIA'S  eyes 
and  at  the  same  time  seises  the  opportunity  to  re 
move  a  little  of  the'  rouge  from  SYLVIA'S  face  and 
lips.) 

NANCY.    Now  let's  begin  at  the  beginning. 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  75 

SYLVIA.    Let's  skip  the  beginning.    It  was  horrid. 

NANCY.    (Surprised)    In  what  way,  dear? 

SYLVIA.     I  was  so  lonesome. 

NANCY.  As  soon  as  I  knew  you  were  to  be  at 
:his  hotel,  instead  of  at  home,  I  wired  to  Bridget 
Wynne.  Didn't  she  look  you  up? 

SYLVIA.  Oh,  all  the  women  came  once.  Mrs. 
Wynne  gave  me  a  luncheon  and  a  box  party  and 
asked  all  the  girls  in  our  set.  It  was  a  perfect  lemon. 

NANCY.     How? 

SYLVIA.  For  all  the  attention  they  gave  to  me  I 
might  as  well  not  have  been  there. 

NANCY.    Why  should  they  be  rude  to  you  ? 

SYLVIA.  They  didn't  mean  to  be.  I  didn't  know 
all  the  little  intimate  things  they  talked  about.  One 
girl's  mother  was  doing  this  for  her,  and  another 
one's  mother  was  doing  that — anyway,  I  felt  like  an 
outsider  in  what  should  have  been  my  own  crowd. 
When  I  got  home  I  just  bawled  my  head  off,  and 
daddy  said  we  wouldn't  bother  with  any  of  them 
again,  but  it  was  pretty  awful,  especially  as  I  didn't 
lave  Angy  to  fall  back  on. 

NANCY.    No  ? 

SYLVIA.  Daddy  said  you  didn't  like  me  to  be  inti 
mate  with  her. 

NANCY.    I  see.    Haven't  you  seen  Alan  and  Peggy  ? 

SYLVIA.  It's  terribly  dull  at  their  flat.  They  are 
so  crazy  about  each  other  that  half  the  time  they 
don't  know  you're  around.  (They  laugh.) 

NANCY.    Didn't  father  go  about  with  you  ? 

SYLVIA.  Oh,  yes,  daddy's  a  darling,  but  he  is  old. 
Gillie's  been  my  life-saver. 

NANCY.     (Mystified)     Who  is  Gillie? 

SYLVIA.  Mr.  Gillette.  He  took  me  to  a  tea  one 
day  at  a  dancing  place  and  introduced  me  to  his 
Friends.  When  he  found  I  liked  them,  he  said, 
"Sylvia,  this  little  old  town  is  yours.  We'll  take  it 
all  apart  and  see  what  makes  it  tick." 


76  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

NANCY.    That  doesn't  sound  like  Mr.  Gillette. 

SYLVIA.  Oh,  he  puts  on  his  grand  manners  with 
you.  You  don't  know  the  real  Gillie. 

NANCY.  (Thoughtfully)  No,  I  don't  believe  I  do. 
(A  slight  pause.)  Who  are  these  friends  ? 

SYLVIA.    I  don't  know.    Just  New  Yorkers. 

NANCY.    Has  your  father  met  them  ? 

SYLVIA.    Oh,  yes. 

NANCY.    Has  he  gone  around  with  you? 

SYLVIA.    Not  to  the  lively  parties. 

NANCY.  (Shocked)  My  dear,  who  chaperoned 
you? 

SYLVIA.    A  woman  pal  of  Gillie's. 

NANCY.    Is  she  a  married  woman? 

SYLVIA.    (Giggling)    Is  she  ?    Three  times. 

NANCY.     How  awful ! 

SYLVIA.  (Protestingly)  She's  terribly  nice.  You 
must  know  her.  So  sweet  to  me.  Takes  me  motor 
ing  in  the  park  almost  every  afternoon. 

NANCY.    Where  did  you  meet  her,  dear? 

SYLVIA.    At  a  party  at  "The  Drowsy  Saint." 

NANCY.    Where's  that? 

SYLVIA.     It's  a  new  freak  place  in  the  Village. 

NANCY.    Who  took  you  there? 

SYLVIA.  Gillie.  He's  a  sweetie  lamb,  and  so  gen 
erous.  He  spends  money  like  water. 

NANCY.    (Puzzled)    He  does? 

SYLVIA.  Yes,  he's  taken  me  on  parties  to  all  the 
cabarets,  V  everywhere. 

NANCY.  Does  your  father  know  that  you  go  to 
these  places? 

SYLVIA.     Sure. 

NANCY.    He  never  objects  ? 

SYLVIA.  Why  should  ,he  when  you  go  with  your 
own  crowd ;  there's  no  harm  in  them,  is  there  ? 

NANCY.  They  are  not  exactly  the  places  for  a 
girl  who  has  been  brought  up  as  you  have  been.  Is 
Mr.  Gillette  always  your  escort  to  these  parties  ? 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  77 

SYLVIA.    (Smiling)    He's  my  "gentleman  friend." 

NANCY.    He  doesn't  make  love  to  you  ? 

SYLVIA.    (Giggling)    No,  but  I  guess  he'd  like  to. 

NANCY.  Darling,  you  mustn't  say  such  things.  It 
isn't  nice. 

SYLVIA.     (Sulkily)    Why  not? 

NANCY.    Well,  nice  girls  don't — that's  all. 

SYLVIA.    (Resentfully)    What  else  don't  they  do? 

NANCY.  (Hesitatingly)  Well,  dear,  they  don't 
go  to  the  places  you  have  been  going,  and  they  don't 
use  rouge,  or  wear  hats  from  Francine's. 

SYLVIA.    All  the  women  in  my  crowd  do. 

NANCY.  Then  I  think  you're  going  with  the  wrong 
crowd. 

SYLVIA.  (Indignantly)  How  do  you  know? 
You've  never  seen  any  of  them.  They  may  not  be 
long,  but  they  know  how  to  be  kind. 

NANCY.  Sylvia,  I'm  sorry.  I  don't  mean  to  criti 
cize 

SYLVIA.  (Rising  in  a  fury  of  rage)  But  you  are, 
you  are  !  Daddy  is  the  only  one  that  never  finds  fault 
with  me.  He's  the  only  one  that  loves  me  really. 

(NANCY,  horrified  at  the  implication  that  she  does 
not  love  SYLVIA,  rises  quickly,  grasps  her  in  her 
arms,  and  almost  roughly  places  her  hand  over 
SYLVIA'S  mouth.  She  stands  there  crucified  by 
the  realisation  of  the  fact  that  she  has  appar 
ently  lost  the  love  of  her  child.) 

NANCY.  Oh,  my  dear,  my  dear — never  say  that 
to  me  again.  (She  pauses  a  moment,  then  very  ten 
derly)  It  isn't  always  kind  to  allow  you  to  do  just 
as  you  please. 

SYLVIA.  (Sullenly)  Doesn't  everyone  else  in  this 
family  do  as  they  darn  please? 

NANCY.    (Hopelessly)    Yes,  I  suppose  we  do. 


78  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

(There  is  a  slight  pause.  SYLVIA  looks  defiantly  at 
NANCY,  who  moves  slowly  across  to  the  fireplace 
where  she  stands,  her  elbows  resting  on  the  man 
telpiece,  her  face  buried  in  her  hands.  The  tele 
phone  bell  rings  sharply.  SYLVIA  turns  quickly 
to  answer  it.) 

SYLVIA.  Yes.  (Turning  to  NANCY. )  Dudley's 
downstairs.  If  you  don't  want  to  be  bothered  I  can 
see  him  in  the  lounge. 

NANCY.    Ask  him  to  come  up. 

SYLVIA.  Have  Mr.  Gillette  come  right  up.  (To 
NANCY,)  Were  you  expecting  him  ? 

NANCY.  Yes,  he's  coming  to  talk  to  me  on  busi 
ness. 

SYLVIA.  I  want  to  talk  to  him,  too,  but  I  hadn't 
better  butt  in  on  your  party. 

NANCY.    It  won't  interfere,  dear. 

SYLVIA.    I've  a  message  for  Gillie  from  the  bunch. 

NANCY.    Can't  you  give  it  to  Mr.  Gillette  now  ? 

SYLVIA.  (Defiantly)  Any  objection  to  my  seeing 
him  alone? 

NANCY.  Why,  none  at  all,  dear ;  I'll  let  you  know 
as  soon  as  we  have  finished. 

(The  buzzer  at  the  double  door  sounds.) 

SYLVIA.  Come  in.  (GILLETTE  enters.  He  wears 
informal  evening  dress.)  Oh,  there  you  are.  I 
thought  you  were  going  with  us  to  dinner  to-night. 

(GILLETTE,  who  has  entered  smilingly,  frowns  in  an 
noyance  at  SYLVIA,  and  motions  her  to  silence; 
then,  smiling  suavely,  advances  toward  NANCY.,) 

GILLETTE.  Good  evening,  Mrs.  Fair.  It's  a  very 
great  pleasure  to  see  you  again. 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR  79 

(NANCY  acknowledges  GILLETTE'S  greeting  coldly.) 

SYLVIA.  Mother,  when  you're  through  with  Gil 
lie,  have  them  page  me  in  the  lounge.  I'll  go  down 
and  hear  a  little  jazz.  (She  smiles  sweetly  at  GIL 
LETTE,  who,  turns  and  smiles  at  her.  She  starts 
towards  the  door  into  the  hall.  NANCY  crosses 
quickly  to  her.) 

NANCY.    No,  Sylvia,  you  wait  in  my  room,  please. 

(SYLVIA  turns  angrily,  looks  at  NANCY;  there  is  a 
brief  clash  of  wills,  then  SYLVIA  goes  into 
-  NANCY'S  room,  slamming  the  door.  NANCY 
sinks  wearily  into  the  chair  and  sits  staring  be 
fore  her,  lost  in  thought.  GILLETTE  places  his 
hat,  cane  and  gloves  on  the  soja,  then  approaches 
NANCY.J 

GILLETTE.  (Effusively)  Mrs.  Fair,  I  must  con 
gratulate  you  on  the  success)  of  your  tour.  It  was 
phenomenal.  I  am  proud  to  have  had  the  privilege 
of  presenting  you  to  the  American  public.  (NANCY 
makes  no  reply.  GILLETTE  looks  at  her  in  surprise.) 
I  trust  that  you  have  found  it  agreeable  to  appear 
under  my  management.  (There  is  no  response  and 
GILLETTE  looks  at  her  again.)  I  hope  our  associa 
tion  will  continue.  I've  secured  even  better  terms 
for  the  new  tour.  (He  sits.) 

NANCY.    I  am  not  going  on  another  tour. 

GILLETTE.  (Astounded)  You  are  not  going  on 
— but,  Mrs.  Fair,  all  the  arrangements  have  been 
made. 

NANCY.    They  will  have  to  be  cancelled. 

GILLETTE.  But  you  agreed  to  it  by  letter.  You 
'phoned  me  to  bring  these  contracts  to-night. 

NANCY.  Things  have  occurred  that  have  made  me 
change  my  mind. 

GILLETTE.    Are  you  dissatisfied  with  me? 


8o  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

NANCY.    No.    But  I  can't  go  on. 

GILLETTE.  You  can't  mean  that  you  are  going  to 
give  up  all  your  triumphs? 

NANCY.     (Satirically)     "Triumphs !" 

GILLETTE.  Why,  Mrs.  Fair,  I  am  leaving  to-night 
for  Montreal  to  arrange  for  your  appearance  in  Can 
ada.  The  people  in  the  East  haven't  heard  you  talk 
of  your  great  work. 

NANCY.  Mr.  Gillette,  there  is  nothing  that  could 
induce  me  to  talk  of  my  great  work  again.  (A 
pause.)  I  will  be  very  much  obliged  if  you  will 
bring  me  an  accounting  to-morrow. 

GILLETTE.  (Nervously)  To-morrow?  (He'rises 
quickly.) 

NANCY.  Yes.  I  think  there  is  about  fifteen  thou 
sand  dollars  due. 

GILLETTE.  (Stammering)  Why — why — I  won't 
be  able  to  make  a  settlement  to-morrow.  It  will  take 
the  bookkeeper  several  days  to  make  out  a  state 
ment. 

NANCY.  Let  me  have  it  as  soon  as  possible,  as  I 
am  going  to  re-open  our  house  in  the  country.  And 
now  I  believe  Sylvia  has  some  message  for  you.  I 
will  send  her  in  and  you  can  say  good-bye  to  her. 
(She  rises  and  goes  to  the  door  of  her  room.) 

GILLETTE.     (Astonished)     Good-bye? 

NANCY.  (Turning  to  him)  I  think  it  wiser. 
Sylvia  has  been  telling  me  of  your  kindness  to  her. 
I  don't  wish  to  seem  ungrateful,  but  I  would  rather 
you  did  not  see  her  again,  at  least  for  the  present. 

GILLETTE.  (Angrily)  Are  you  insinuating  that  I 
am  not  good  enough  to  associate  with  your  daugh 
ter? 

NANCY.  I  never  insinute,  Mr.  Gillette.  If  I  must 
speak  more  plainly,  I  will,  and  I  hope  you  will  not 
resent  it. 

GILLETTE.     (Rudely)     Well 

NANCY.    Sylvia's  story  of  her  friendship  with  you 


THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  81 

has  made  me  realize  that  you  and  I  have  rather  dif 
ferent  standards  as  to  the  sort  of  associates  and 
amusements  that  are  suitable  for  girls  of  her  age  and 
up-bringing. 

GILLETTE.  (Sneeringly)  She  enjoyed  the  asso 
ciates  and  the  amusements. 

NANCY.  Possibly,  but  I  am  sure  that  she  will  like 
much  more  the  ones  I  intend  to  provide  for  her  from 
now  on.  When  may  I  expect  the  statement  ? 

GILLETTE.     The. day  after  to-morrow. 

NANCY.    Good  night,  Mr.  Gillette. 

GILLETTE.    Good  night,  Mrs.  Fair. 

(NANCY  goes  into  her  room.  GILLETTE  walks  up 
and  down.  He  is  deeply  annoyed,  worried.  En 
ter  SYLVIA.  She  runs  across  to  him.) 

SYLVIA.    Oh,  Gillie,  the  bunch  said  to  tell  you 

GILLETTE.    (Irritably)    Oh,  hang  the  bunch ! 

SYLVIA.    Why,  Dudley,  what's  the  matter? 

GILLETTE.  Your  mother  has  thrown  me  down. 
She  has  cancelled  her  tour. 

SYLVIA.     (Surprised)    Mother's  not  going  away? 

GILLETTE.  No,  and  she  has  put  me  in  an  awful 
hole. 

SYLVIA.    How  ? 

GILLETTE.  Oh,  you  wouldn't  understand  about 
business.  Where  the  devil  am  I  going  to  find  fifteen 
thousand  dollars  by  the  day  after  to-morrow? 

SYLVIA.     I'm  so  sorry  you're  so  worried. 

GILLETTE.  I  can  do  with  a  little  sympathy.  She's 
made  me  feel  like  a  yellow  dog. 

SYLVIA.  Did  mother  say  something  unkind  to 
you? 

GILLETTE.  (Bitterly)  Did  she?  She  spoke 
"plainly"  and  "hoped  I  wouldn't  resent  it."  Me 
doing  all  I  could  so  that  you  wouldn't  be  lonely.  A 
lot  of  thanks  I  got.  Told  me  I  wasn't  good  enough 


82  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

to  associate  with  you.  (He  laughs.)  Well,  if  she 
objects  to  me,  what's  she  going  to  say  about  your 
father  and  Angy  Brice? 

SYLVIA.    Dudley!    What  do  you  mean? 

GILLETTE.  The  minute  your  mother's  wise,  she'll 
get  a  divorce. 

SYLVIA.     (Shocked)    Divorce ! 

GILLETTE.  Why,  you  poor  kid,  aren't  you  onto 
your  father  and  Angy  Brice?  Everybody  else  in 
town  is. 

SYLVIA.  Oh,  I  never  thought  my  daddy  would  go 
back  on  me.  (Broken-hearted,  she  sinks  into  a  chair, 
sobbing.) 

GILLETTE.  Your  whole  family, has  gone  back  on 
you.  That  selfish  brother  of  yours  has  no  time  for 
anybody  but  his  wife.  Your  mother  leaving  you 
alone  for  years  at  a  stretch,  and  your  father  running 
around  with  Angy  Brice.  A  lot  they  care  about  you. 

SYLVIA.     Nobody  wants  me. 

(GILLETTE,  suddenly  alarmed  lest  SYLVIA'S  sobs  may 
be  overheard  by  her  mother,  crosses  quickly  to 
her  and  quiets  her.) 

GILLETTE.  I  want  you.  I'm  the  only  one  that 
cares  anything  about  you,  and  I've  been  ordered  to 
say  good-bye  to  you. 

SYLVIA.     (Bewildered)     Good-bye? 

GILLETTE.  Yes,  you're  going  to  be  taken  down  to 
the  country. 

SYLVIA.     I  won't  go. 

GILLETTE.  You'll  have  to  go  and  you'll  soon  for 
get  all  about  me. 

SYLVIA.    I  won't. 

GILLETTE.    Oh,  yes,  you  will. 

SYLVIA.     I  won't. 

GILLETTE.    No?    Then  prove  it. 

SYLVIA.    How  ? 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR  83 

•  GILLETTE.    Come  with  me  to  Montreal  to-night. 

SYLVIA.    Oh,  Dudley ! 

GILLETTE.  We'll  be  married  as  soon  as  we  get 
there. 

SYLVIA.    I  couldn't.    They'd  never  forgive  me. 

GILLETTE.  Sure  they  will.  Didn't  they  forgive 
Alan  ?  Forgive  you  !  Why,  they'll  be  on  their  knees 
to  you,  and  to  me,  too. 

SYLVIA.    I  don't  know  what  to  do. 

GILLETTE.  Oh,  all  right.  I  might  have  known  you 
wouldn't  come  through.  You  pretend  to  care  for  me. 
It's  only  a  bluff.  Well,  stay  here  where  nobody 
wants  you.  Good-bye.  (He  makes  a  pretense^  of 
leaving'  hurriedly.  SYLVIA  rises  and  runs  to  him.) 

SYLVIA.    Oh,  Dudley,  please  don't  go. 

GILLETTE.  Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about 
it? 

SYLVIA.  (Pathetically)  You're  sure  you  really 
want  me? 

GILLETTE.  Of  course  I  want  you.  We  can't  talk 
here.  Meet  me  downstairs  in  the  lounge  and  we 
will  talk  it  over.  Now  you  won't  weaken? 

(He  opens  the  door  to  the  hall.  SYLVIA  crosses  it 
to  her  room.  He  closes  the  door  and  stands  for 
an  instant,  smiling  in  triumph  as  he  looks  at  the 
door  to  NANCY'S  room,  then  chuckling,  goes 
hurriedly  and  gets  his  hat  and  cane  from  the 
sofa,  and  is  starting  to  leave  the  room  quickly 
when  NANCY  enters  from  her  room.  He  stops 
and  assumes  a  nonchalant  attitude.) 

NANCY.  (Surprised)  Oh,  Mr.  Gillette,  where  is 
Sylvia  ? 

GILLETTE.  I've  said  good-bye  to  her.  She's  gone 
to  her  room.  Good  night,  Mrs.  Fair. 

NANCY.     Good  night. 


84  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR 

(GILLETTE  bows  smilingly  and  leaves  the  room,  clos 
ing  the  door.  NANCY  stands  thinking,  then  goes 
towards  the  door  on  her  way  to  SYLVIA'S  room. 
Her  hand  is  on  the  knob  when  the  telephone 
rings  sharply,  then  again.  NANCY  answers  it.) 

NANCY.  Hello.  Put  her  on,  please.  Who? 
Mrs.  Brice?  Oh,  this  is  Mrs.  Fair.  Yes.  I'll  give 
Mr.  Fair  your  message.  (Enter  JEFFREY .)  That 
was  Mrs.  Brice  on  the  telephone. 

JEFFREY.  (Surprised)  Really?  Why,  I  saw 
her 

NANCY.  Yes,  I  know.  She  said  that  you  had  just 
been  there,  but  she  wants  to  see  you  to-morrow. 

JEFFREY.  Oh,  all  right.  (He  goes  towards  his 
room.)  Sylvia  home? 

NANCY.  Yes,  she  is  in  her  room.  Jeffrey — (He 
stops.) — I  hardly  know  how  to  say  it.  I  understand 
about  Mrs.  Brice,  but  has  it  ever  occurred  to  you 
that  other  people  mightn't? 

JEFFREY.    What  do  you  mean  ? 

NANCY.  The  worst  of  these  platonic  friendships 
is,  that  people  will  talk. 

JEFFREY.    Have  you  heard  any  talk  ? 

(He  places  his  overcoat  and  hat  on  a  chair  and  goes 
toward  NANCY.J 

NANCY.  Well,  Bridget  Wynne  isn't  a  gossip,  but 
even  she  wrote  to  me  that  you  and  Mrs.  Brice  were 
about  a  good  deal  together. 

JEFFREY.  Oh,  she  is  still  reporting  to  her  senior 
officer. 

(He  sits  at  the  right  of  the  table.    NANCY  sits  at  the 
left  of  it.) 

NANCY.    Jeffrey,  frankly,  do  you  think  it  courte- 


THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  85 

ous  to  go  to  see  Mrs.  Brice  a  few  hours  after  my 
arrival  ? 

JEFFREY.  You  were  busy  with  your  own  affairs 
as  usual. 

NANCY.     I  have  some  pride. 

JEFFREY.     I  don't  understand. 

NANCY.  I  was  very  glad  to  have  the  excuse  of 
letters  so  that  I  need  not  prolong  your  boredom  at 
dinner. 

JEFFREY.  I  wasn't  bored.  Sorry  if  you  were.  I 
thought  I  was  very  entertaining.  You'll  have  to 
make  allowances  for  me.  I  haven't  had  the  advan 
tage  of  mingling  with  the  mighty  minds  of  two  con 
tinents. 

NANCY.    Jeffrey,  I'd  like  you  to  be  serious. 

JEFFREY.  Oh,  haven't  we  been?  I  think  being 
told  by  your  wife  that  you  are  a  bore  is  fairly  seri 
ous.  Still  if  there's  more,  let's  have  it.  (There  is 
a  slight  pause.) 

NANCY.  Jeffrey,  long  ago  we  decided  that  if  we 
ever  came  to  the  conclusion  that  our  marriage  had 
been  a  mistake 

JEFFREY.     I  haven't  said  so. 

NANCY.  Words  aren't  necessary.  Actions  some 
times 

JEFFREY.  When  it  comes  to  actions,  I  haven't  for 
saken  my  bed  and  board. 

NANCY.    We  needn't  go  into  that. 

JEFFREY.  Pardon  me,  but  that  is  the  crux  of  the 
whole  affair. 

NANCY.  Oh,  no,  Jeffrey,  your  attentions  to  Mrs. 
Brice  are  the  crux  of  the  affair. 

JEFFREY.  What  right  have  you  to  object  to  any 
thing  I  do? 

NANCY.    My  right  as  your  wife. 

JEFFREY.    Haven't  you  forfeited  that  right? 

NANCY.    How  ? 

JEFFREY.     If  you  prefer  the  public  to  your  hus- 


86  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

band,  you  mustn't  kick  at  the  price  you  have  to  pay. 

NANCY.  Meaning  that  I  am  not  to  protest  if  you 
choose  to  make  me  conspicuous  by  your  attentions 
to  that  woman?  Really  this  is  delicious.  (She 
laughs,  rises  and  goes  to  the  desk,  at  which  she  sits.) 

JEFFREY.  Are  you  paying  me  the  compliment  of 
being  jealous  of  me? 

NANCY.    Jealous  of  a  man  who  doesn't  want  me ! 

JEFFREY.  Oh,  Nancy,  you  know  damn  well  I  want 
you.  You  may  not  be  jealous  of  me,  but  I  am  of 
you,  and  of  everything  that  concerns  you.  I'm  jeal 
ous  of  your  career  because  it  takes  you  away  from 
me.  (He  rises.)  I  tried  to  live  up  to  our  agree 
ment.  Haven't  I  the  right  to  expect  that  you'd  live 
up  to  it,  too?  If  it  was  my  job  to  provide  the  home, 
wasn't  it  your  job  to  take  care  of  it?  Had  you  the 
right,  be  honest,  Nancy,  to  go  on  this  tour?  You 
can't  be  married  and  be  a  free  agent  without  making 
someone  suffer.  I'm  so  damned  sick  of  my  life,  as 
I'm  living  it  now — but  there,  I  don't  want  to  keep 
you  if  you  want  to  be  free.  (He  turns  away  from 
NANCY,  who  rises  and  follows  him  quickly.) 

NANCY.  I  don't  want  to  be  free.  (As  JEFFREY 
turns  to  take  her  in  his  anns,  she  stops  him.)  Oh, 
wait,  I  want  to  be  honest  with  myself  and  with  you. 
I  couldn't  go  back  to  my  life  as  I  lived  it  four  years 
ago.  It  isn't  that  I  don't  want  a  home.  While  I  was 
in  France  there  were  glorious  moments  and  honors 
and  flattery,  but  there  were  nights  when  I  was  so 
sick  of  the  horrors,  the  pain,  the  misery,  that  it 
seemed  to  me  if  I  couldn't  put  my  head  on  your 
shoulder  and  cry  out  the  loneliness  of  my  heart 
against  yours  I  couldn't  go  on.  (JEFFREY  takes  her 
in  his  arms,  kisses  her.)  With  death  on  every  side 
I  used  to  worry  for  fear  you  weren't  taking1  care  of 
yourself.  They  decorated  me  for  bravery.  They 
never  knew  what  a  coward  I  was  about  you.  Why, 
on  this  tour  the  nights  when  I  had  had  a  great  sue- 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR  87 

cess  and  while  people  were  crowding  around  me 
congratulating  me,  I'd  see  some  wife  tuck  her  hand 
;hrough  her  husband's  arm,  just  as  I  had  tucked 
mine  so  many  times  through  yours,  and  she  would 
rot  away  home  with  her  man  and  I  would  go  to  a 
onely  hotel  room  and  think  about  you.  Then  is 
>vhen  I  would  realize  that  success  meant  nothing  if 
[  had  to  give  up  you.  (She  breaks  down  and  cries. 
JEFFREY'S  arms  are  about  her.  He  murmurs  her 
^ame  and  kisses  her.) 

JEFFREY.    Then,  Nancy,  I've  got  you  again. 

NANCY.  'Yes,  and  hang  on  to  me.  If  I  ever  try 
o  go  away  again,  lock  me  up  on  bread  and  water. 

JEFFREY.    What  about  this  supplementary  tour  ? 

NANCY.  (Laughing  in  hysterical  relief)  There 
"ain't  going  to  be  no  tour." 

JEFFREY.    Fine!    When  did  you  decide  that? 

NANCY.    To-night.    But  don't  ask  me  why. 

JEFFREY.  I  don't  care  a  damn  why,  just  so  you're 
not  going.  (He  kisses  her.) 

NANCY.  Bless  you.  The  first  thing  we'll  do  will 
be  to  get  out  of  this  hole.  (She  moves  away  from 
him.) 

JEFFREY.  I  don't  believe  Sylvia  will  like  the 
country. 

NANCY.  She'll  like  it  with  me.  She's  going  to 
have  all  the  fun  she's  missed  in  four  years  crowded 
into  as  many  months.  It's  going  to  be  very  expen 
sive  for  you,  darling.  (She  laughs  and  sits  on  the 
sofa.  JEFFREY  follows  her  and  sits  beside  her.) 

JEFFREY.    Go  as  far  as  you  like. 

NANCY.  She  and  I  are  going  out  to-morrow  and 
buy  a  lot  of  frills.  And  if  the  exchequer  runs  to  it 
I  want  new  curtains  for  the  living-room  and  then  I 
am  going  to  give  the  grandest  party  for  my  two 
daughters ! 

JEFFREY.  (Pleased)  You're  going  to  take  Peggy 
up? 


88  THE   FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

NANCY.  No,  I'm  going  to  try  to  make  her  love 
me,  that's  all. 

JEFFREY.  She  will.  After  that,  what?  Remem 
ber,  Nancy,  I  don't  want  to  tie  you  down  to  the 
home. 

NANCY.  If  you  can  have  a  career  and  do  your 
duty  to  the  family  too,  can't  I?  I  ought  to  be  as 
smart  as  you.  But  you'll  help  me  find  some  welfare 
work  to  keep  me  and  my  unit  out  of  mischief,  won't 
you? 

JEFFREY.    Sure. 

NANCY.  That's  settled.  Oh,  Jeff,  you  are  a  nice 
old  thing !  (She  leans  back  in  his  arms.) 

JEFFREY.    Nancy,  you're  a  darling ! 

NANCY.  (Teasingly)  And  you're  quite  sure  that 
I  am  as  well  suited  to  you  as  Angy  Brice  ? 

JEFFREY.  Oh,  forget  her.  I  discharged  all  my 
obligations  to  her  to-night. 

NANCY.  I  am  kind  of  sorry  for  poor  Angy.  (A 
pause.)  Obligations?  What  obligations?  (JEF 
FREY  does  not  reply.  NANCY  draws  herself  away 
from  him;  looks  at  him.)-  Has  she  any  real  claim  on 
you?  Tell  me  the  truth.  Tell  me  the  truth. 

JEFFREY.  Nancy,  for  God's  sake,  be  big  enough 
to  understand. 

NANCY.     Oh ! 

(She  shudders  away  from  him,  rises,  goes  to  the 
mantelpiece  and  buries  her  face  in  her  hands.) 

JEFFREY.  It  was  just  after  you  had  gone  on  this 
tour.  You  know  how  we  parted.  You  didn't  write 
to  me.  I  was  lonely,  reckless.  But  I've  never  loved 
her.  You  won't  believe  it,  but  I've  never  ceased  lov 
ing  you. 

NANCY.  Stop,  stop!  Everything  you  say  only 
makes  it  more  horrible !  (She  moves  away  from  him 
across  the  room.  JEFFREY  rises,  moves  about  and 


THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  89 

finally  stands  looking  into  the  fireplace.  There  is 
silence.  Then  NANCY  goes  towards  the  door  to  her 
room.  She  stops.)  I  will  go  West  and  establish  a 
residence.  We  won't  drag  in  Mrs.  Brice.  Your 
lawyer  will  make  all  the  necessary  arrangements  and 
communicate  with  me.  (She  turns  to  go.) 

JEFFREY.    You're  going  to  divorce  me  ? 

NANCY.  (Turning  to  him)  You  don't  think  I'd 
go  on  living  with  you  ? 

JEFFREY.  Nancy,-  you're  not  going  to  hold  me  en 
tirely  to  blame?  You're  not  going  to  dodge  your 
own  responsibility? 

NANCY.    For  what  am  I  responsible? 

JEFFREY.  Surely  you  don't  think  my  affair  with 
Mrs.  Brice  was  a  greater  sin  against  our  love  than 
your  craving  for  a  career  ? 

NANCY.  And  surely  you  are  not  daring  to  place 
me  in  the  same  category  as  yourself? 

JEFFREY.  Why  not  ?  Do  you  think  you  can  starve 
my  affections,  my  passion,  for  years,  without  moral 
guilt? 

NANCY.  You  must  be  mad  to  think  such  thoughts, 
and  lost  to  all  sense  of  decency  to  express  them. 

JEFFREY.    I 

NANCY.  I  refuse  to  listen  to  anything  more.  All 
I  want  to  know  is,  are  you  going  to  try  to  keep  me 
against  my  will,  or  must  I  make  a  scandal  to  get 
free?  (JEFFREY  is  silent.)  Surely  you  don't  want 
to  blacken  the  name  of  the  woman  you  are  going 
to  marry? 

JEFFREY.  I'm  not  going  to  marry  her.  She  knows* 
it.  I'm  not  in  love  with  her,  nor  she  with  me.  A 
sum  of  money  will  console  her. 

NANCY.  Your  bargain  with  her  has  no  interest 
for  me.  You  may  make  what  use  of  your  freedom 
you  choose.  I  mean  to  have  mine. 

JEFFREY.      Very   well.      My    lawyer   knows   the 


90  THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

amount  of  my  income.  You  may  have  what  you 
wish  of  it. 

NANCY.  I  wouldn't  take  any  of  it,  were  it  not  for 
Sylvia. 

JEFFREY.    What  do  you  mean?    Sylvia? 

NANCY.  Do  you  think  I  would  allow  her  to  re 
main  with  you?  Look  what  your  neglect  has  made 
of  her.  Through  your  .carelessness  Mr.  Gillette  has 
been  allowed  to  introduce  her  to  a  sort  of  life  until 

she  is  no  more  the  child  I  sent  home  to  you  than 

Do  you  think  when  I  realize  that  you  are  responsible 
that  I  would  trust  her  to  you  again  ?  Never  f 
Never ! 

JEFFREY.  And  do  you  think  I'm  going  to  let  you 
have  her  ?  She's  the  biggest  thing  in  my  life.  I'll 
never  let  her  go. 

NANCY.  She's  the  only  thing  in  mine.  If  you 
force  me  to  do  it,  I'll  tell  her  the  truth  about  you. 

JEFFREY.  So  that  is  your  threat!  She  is  in  her 
room,  you  say.  Well,  you  tell  her  the  truth  about 
me  and  let  her  decide.  (He  starts  toward  the  door 
to  the  hall.  NANCY  stands  aghast.  ALAN  rushes  in, 
followed  by  PEGGY.J 

ALAN.    Dad!    Mother!    Where  is  Sylvia? 

NANCY.    She  is  in  her  room. 

ALAN.  She  is  not.  (To  PEGGY,)  I  was  right.  It 
was  Sylvia  in  that  taxicab  with  Gillette.  (To  JEF 
FREY)  They  drove  away  just  as  we  arrived. 

PEGGY.  I  found  this  letter  on  Sylvia's  dressing- 
table.  (She  gives  the  letter  to  ALAN,  who  hands  it 
to  JEFFREY.) 

ALAN.    For  you,  Dad. 

(JEFFREY  takes  the  letter.    The  others  watch  him  ap 
prehensively  as  he  opens  it.)  ' 

JEFFREY.    (Reading)    "Dear  Daddy— I "    (He 

mumbles  indistinctly }  then,  overcome  by  its  contents, 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR  91 

he  cruples  it  in  his  hand  and  drops  his  head  in  misery. 
NANCY,  who  has  been  watching  him  in  fear,  starts 
•toward  him.    She  is  trembling  and  can  scarcely  walk. 
Her  hands  are  outstretched  toward  the  letter.) 
NANCY.     (Hoarsely)    Jeff,  Jeff ! 

(JEFFREY  looks  at  NANCY,  then  hands  her  the  letter.) 

JEFFREY.  Sylvia  has  decided.  (He  rushes  to  the 
telephone.)  Hello,  hello,  give  me  police  headquar 
ters  quickly,  quickly. 

(JEFFREY  is  at  the  telephone,  frantically  calling  Police 
Headquarters.  ALAN  and  PEGGY  are  beside  him. 
NANCY,  with  the  letter  crushed  against  her 
breast,  leans  for  support  against  the  table.  She 
stares  straight  ahead,  her  face  drawn  with 
agony,  as  the  curtain  falls.) 


THE    FOURTH    ACT 

The  scene  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  previous  act. 
The  room  is  in  semi-darkness,  the  curtains  drawn 
aside  showing  through  the  window,  blurred  by 
the  drizzling  rain,  the  lights  of  a  building  across 
the  street.  Two  hours  have  elapsed. 

NANCY  is  standing  at  the  window,  peering  into  the 
street.  Presently  PEGGY,  a  wrap  over  her  arm, 
enters  from  NANCY'S  bedroom.  NANCY,  with 
a  little  cry,  turns  quickly  at  the  sound  of  the 
closing  door,  then  with  a  sigh  of  disappointment 
resumes  her  watching  attitude.  PEGGY  goes  to 
her  and  places  the  wrap  about  her  shoulders.) 

NANCY.    Thank  you,  Peggy  dear. 

(PEGGY  switches  on  the  light  in  the  chandelier.  The 
bell  of  the  telephone  on  the  writing-desk  rings 
shrilly.  PEGGY  rushes  to  it.  NANCY  turns 
sharply  and  during  the  telephone  conversation, 
to  which  she  listens  intently,  moves  down  and 
stands  behind  PEGGY. ) 

PEGGY.  (Excitedly)  Hello,  yes.  Police  Head 
quarters.  Oh,  yes,  Tom.  Any  news? — None.  Oh 
— Gillette  went  to  his  apartment.  Was  Sylvia  with 
him  then? — She  waited  outside  in  the  taxi.  You 
haven't  any  idea  where  they  went  from  there. — 
Your  men  are  watching  all  the  depots  and  ferries. 
(She  breaks  down.)  Oh,  Tom,  you've  got  to  find 
her. — No.  I  won't.  He's  there  with  you? — Hello, 

92 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR  93 

Alan.     Your  mother?     Why (Not   knowing 

what  to  say,  she  turns  to  NANCY,  who  takes  the  tele 
phone.  PEGGY  bows  her  head  on  the  desk,  crying.) 
NANCY.  Yes,  dear,  I'm  all  right.  Don't  worry 
about  me,  there's  a  good  boy.  Your  father?  He's 
gone  out.  I  don't  know  where. — Now,  Alan,  dear, 
you  mustn't  give  up  hope.  You'll  find  her. — That's 
better. — That's  more  like  my  boy.  Of  course  you'll 
bring  her  back  to  me.  I  know  you  will. — That's  it. 
Good-bye,  dear.  (She  puts  the  telephone  on  the 
table  and,  smiling  bravely,  places  her  hand  on 
PEGGY'S  head.)  Don't  cry,  Peggy  dear ;  they'll  find 
her.  They'll  find  her.  (Then,  beginning  to  lose  her 
self-control,  she  turns  away  to  the  window,  her  hands 
folded  as  though  in  prayer.)  Oh,  God,  find  her! 
Find  her !  Find  her ! 

(She  goes  to  the  window  and,  leaning  against  it,  her 
face  pressed  against  the  panes,  breaks  into  long 
shivering  sobs.  PEGGY  goes  to  her  and,  putting 
her  arms  about  her,  leads  her  to  the  fireplace  and 
places  her  in  the  couch,  where  NANCY  sits,  hold 
ing  out  her  hands  to  the  blase.  PEGGY  kneels 
beside  her.  There  is  a  pause,  then  NANCY  looks 
at  the  clock  on  the  mantel.) 

NANCY.     It's  almost  twelve  o'clock. 

PEGGY.  We'll  hear  some  good  news  very  soon 
now.  (Rising.)  Wouldn't  you  like  a  cup  of  tea? 
(NANCY  shakes  her  head.)  Not  if  I  sent  for  the 
things  and  made  it  myself?  I  make  very  nice  tea. 

NANCY.  I'm  sure  you  do.  But  I  couldn't.  (There 
is  a  pause.)  ,  \ 

PEGGY.  Oh,  Mrs.  Fair !  I  wouldn't  keep  on  read 
ing  that  letter. 

NANCY.  Oh,  Peggy,  I  know  it  by  heart.  "I'm  in 
everybody's  way.  Nobody  wants  me.  Dudley  does, 


94  THE  FAMOUS    MRS.    FAIR 

so  I'm  going  with  him.  .  .  .  Sylvia."  Oh,  my 
baby !  (She  breaks  down  again.) 

PEGGY.    Please  don't  cry — please ! 

NANCY.  No,  I  mustn't.  I  mustn't.  (A  slight 
pause.)  Oh,  if  I  could  only  do  something! 

PEGGY.  There  is  nothing  to  do  but  wait.  (She 
sits  on  the  arm  of  the  couch,  her  arms  around 
NANCY.  Again  there  is  a  pause.) 

NANCY.  (Wildly)  Oh,  Peggy,  tell  me  again  that 
they'll  find  her! 

PEGGY.  Of  course  they  will.  Now,  Mrs.  Fair, 
you  mustn't.  Please  don't  cry. 

NANCY.  (Controlling  herself)  Why  are  you  so 
good  to  me? 

PEGGY.  (Very  tenderly)  Because  you're  Alan's 
mother.  And  because  you're  you. 

NANCY.  I  don't  deserve  this,  my  dear,  but  I'm 
very  grateful. 

PEGGY.  I've  been  wanting  to  do  this  ever  since 
that  day  we  hurt  you  so  cruelly. 

(NANCY  pulls  PEGGY'S  head  down  to  her  and  kisses 
her.  PEGGY  sits  beside  NANCY  and,  taking 
NANCY'S  hand  in  hers,  strokes  it  affectionately. 
There  is  a  pause.  Both  of  them  are  lost  in 
thought.) 

PEGGY.  The  one  thing  I  can't  understand  is  Syl 
via's  leaving  her  father.  She  would  never  have  gone 
if  she  hadn't  felt  that  in  some  way  he  had  turned 

against  her.  She  might  have  left (She  stops 

abruptly.) 

NANCY.  You  could  understand  her  leaving  me. 
I'm  beginning  to  understand  that,  too.  I'm  begin 
ning  to  see  that  he  has  more  right  to  her  than  I 
have. 

PEGGY.     Oh,  I  don't  mean  that  she  doesn't  love 


THE  FAMOUS    MRS.   FAIR  95 

you,  but  the  love  Sylvia  had  for  her  father  was  won 
derful. 

NANCY.    He  had  earned  it. 

PEGGY.  I  don't  think  Mr.  Fair  realized  it,  but  he 
didn't  want  her  to  love  anyone  more  than  she  did 
him. 

NANCY.  This  is  going  to  be  terrible  for  Jeffrey. 
(A  pause.)  It's  strange,  Peggy,  how  one  can  seem 
to  be  doing  one's  duty  and  fail  so  miserably — go  so 
hopelessly  wrong.  (A  pause,  then  NANCY  looks 
toward  the  telephone.)  Queer  they  don't  telephone. 
I  wonder  where  Jeffrey  is?  If  they  don't  find  Syl 
via 

PEGGY.    Oh,  they  will,  they  will. 

NANCY.  (Rising)  Oh,  what  is  her  father  going 
to  do  without  her? 

PEGGY.  Thank  God,  you're  here.  At  least,  what 
ever  happens,  he  has  you. 

(NANCY  winces  and  turns  away  as  the  door  opens 
to  admit  JEFFREY,  tired,  haggard.  Both  the 
women  turn  to  him  inquiringly.  He  shakes  his 
head.  Then  places  his  hat  and  coat  on  the  chair 
beside  the  door.  PEGGY  goes  to  him.) 

JEFFREY.    Any  news? 

PEGGY.  (Cheerfully)  Not  yet.  But  there  will 
be  very  soon. 

JEFFREY,    You  all  right,  Nancy? 
NANCY.    Yes,  Jeffrey. 
JEFFREY.    Did  Alan  telephone? 
PEGGY.    Yes,  just  a  moment  ago. 
JEFFREY.    No  trace  of  them  ? 

(PEGGY  shakes  her  head.  JEFFREY  moves  slowly 
down  to  the  chair  at  the  desk,  where  he  sits, 
brooding.  PEGGY  sits  in  the  armchair  at  the 
table.  A  pause.) 


96  THE  FAMOUS   MRS.    FAIR 

JEFFREY.  (Savagely)  Curse  the  day  the  swine 
came  into  my  house ! 

NANCY.  Oh,  Jeff,  don't  make  me  feel  my  respon 
sibility  for  it  all  any  more  than  I  do.  I  can't  bear  it. 
I  can't  bear  it. 

JEFFREY.    I'm  sorry,  Nancy. 

NANCY.    That's  all  right,  Jeff. 

(NANCY  goes  to  the  window  and  looks  down  into  the 
street,  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hands  to  cut 
off  the  light  from  the  chandelier.  Presently  she 
rubs  the  moisture  off  the  pane  and  peers  out 
again.  Then  she  lifts  the  sash  and  leans  out, 
looking  down  into  the  street.  Suddenly  she  gives 
a  little  start.) 

NANCY.    Jeff !    Here  comes  a  taxi ! 

(JEFFREY  and  PEGGY  run  to  the  window  and  look  out 
over  NANCY'S  shoulder.) 

PEGGY.     (Excitedly)    Is  it  stopping? 
NANCY.    No,  it's  going  on. 

(PEGGY  and  JEFFREY  return  to  their  chairs;  NANCY 
remains  at  the  window.  A  pause,  then  JEFFREY 
takes  out  his  watch.) 

PEGGY.     (Whispering)    What  time  is  it? 
JEFFREY.     (Whispering)     A  quarter  past  twelve. 

(PEGGY,  sighing,  sinks  back  into  the  chair,  and  after 
a  moment  JEFFREY  turns  and  looks  at  NANCY.) 

JEFFREY.  Mother,  you'd  better  come  away  from 
that  window ;  there  is  a  draught.  You'll  take  cold. 
(NANCY  does  not  reply.)  Nancy,  you'll  take  cold. 
(NANCY  does  not  answer.  Another  pause.  Then 


THE   FAMOUS    MRS,    FAIR  97 

JEFFREY,  rising,  goes  to  PEGGY,  touches  her  quietly 
on  the  shoulder.)  Peggy,  get  her  away  from  that 
window.  I  can't  stand  it.  I  can't  stand  it.  (Pro 
foundly  moved,  he  walks  over  to  the  sofa  and  sits. 
PEGGY  goes  to  NANCY  and  touches  her  on  the  shoul 
der.) 

NANCY.    Yes,  dear? 

PEGGY.    I  wouldn't  watch  for  them,  dear. 

NANCY.    No  ? 

PEGGY.  You  know  a  watched  kettle  never  boils. 
(NANCY  smiles,  but  remains  at  the  'window.  PEGGY 
returns  to  the  armchair  and  stands  behind  it.)  Is  it 
raining  now,  Mr.  Fair? 

JEFFREY.    Yes. 

NANCY.  (Quite  unemotionally)  I  hope  Sylvia 
hadn't  on  thin  shoes.  She  takes  cold  so  easily.  At 
least,  she  used  to. 

(JEFFREY  buries  his  face  in  his  hands.    PEGGY'S  lips 
quiver.     Her  eyes  fill  with  tears.     They  wait.) 

JEFFREY.    Nancy,  did  Gillette  owe  you  any  money  ? 

NANCY.  (Intently  watching  the  street)  Yes,  sev 
eral  thousand. 

JEFFREY.    That's  it ! 

NANCY.     (Indifferently)     What  do  you  mean? 

JEFFREY.  I  found  out  from  Tom  Gibbs  to-night 
that  Gillette  was  the  man  who  was  mixed  up  in  that 
Bazaar  scandal.  He  has  stolen  your  money  or  was 
going  to. 

NANCY.    I  don't  understand. 

JEFFREY.  Don't  you  see  you  can't  prosecute  him 
now  without  bringing  Sylvia  into  it?  ...  Damn 
him! 

(It  all  seems  of  little  moment  to  NANCY,  and  she' 
turns  again  to  the  windoiv.  The  door  to  the  hall 
opens  very  softly  and  ALAN  stands  in  the  door- 


98  THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

way,  unseen  by  JEFFREY  and  NANCY.  PEGGY, 
moving  to  sit  in  the  chair,  sees  ALAN  and  goes 
quietly  to  him.  He  whispers  to  her  and  she 
darts  out  and  across  the  hall  into  SYLVIA'S  room. 
He  comes  in  quickly,  closing  the  door.  At  the 
sound  NANCY  and  JEFFREY  turn.  JEFFREY 
springs  to  his  feet.) 

NANCY.     (With  a  great  cry)    Alan! 
ALAN.     She's  here! 
JEFFREY.    Thank  God! 

(NANCY  makes  a  rush  for  the  door.) 

ALAN.  (Stopping  her)  Wait,  Mother.  What 
are  you  going  to  say  to  her?  What  are  you  going 
to  do? 

NANCY.    Oh,  Alan,  what  would  I  do? 

ALAN.    I  didn't  know. 

JEFFREY.    Where  did  you  find  her? 

ALAN.  At  I25th  Street  station.  They  were  on 
their  way  to  Montreal. 

JEFFREY.    Where  is  he  ? 

ALAN.    I've  taken  care  of  him.    He's 

NANCY.  (Hysterically,  and  trying  to  pass  ALAN) 
What  does  it  matter  where  he  is?  All  that  matters 
is  that  she's  here.  Don't  shut  her  outside.  Alan, 
do  you  hear  me  ?  Let  me  go  to  her ! 

JEFFREY.    Easy,  Nancy,  easy ! 

ALAN.  (Taking  her  in  his  arms)  All  right, 
Mother,  all  right.  But  be  careful — treat  her  very 
gently.  (He  goes.) 

NANCY.  Jeffrey,  I'm  giving  up  my  claims  to  her. 
She's  yours.  So  be  kind  to  her. 

(SYLVIA  enters,  white-faced,  defiant,  -followed  by 
PEGGY  and  ALAN.  NANCY  rushes  toward  her  to 
embrace  her.  SYLVIA,  stretching  out  her  hands, 


THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  99 

stops  her.     NANCY,  surprised,  stunned  for  the 
moment,  looks  toward  JEFFREY  bewilderedly.) 

NANCY.    Jeff 

(JEFFREY  looks  at  SYLVIA,  who  looks  coldly  at  him.) 

NANCY.    Won't  you  sit  down,  dear? 

SYLVIA.  I  can  take  what  everybody  has  to  say, 
standing. 

NANCY.  (Very  tenderly)  Darling,  don't  be 
afraid. 

SYLVIA.     I'm  not  afraid. 

NANCY.  We're  not  going  to  scold  you.  We're 
not  going  to  say  anything. 

SYLVIA.     No  ?    Well,  I  am. 

JEFFREY.  (Sternly)  Very  well.  Go  on.  I'm  in 
terested  to  hear  what  you  have  to  say. 

NANCY.    (Turning  to  him)    Jeff,  please ! 

JEFFREY.  I'll  handle  this,  Nancy.  Alan,  take 
Peggy  into  your  mother's  room. 

SYLVIA.    She  needn't  go.    She's  in  on  this. 

PEGGY.     I  ? 

SYLVIA.  You  were  responsible  for  our  arrest, 
weren't  you? 

ALAN.     You  weren't  arrested. 

SYLVIA.  We  would  have  been  if  you  hadn't  been 
there. 

PEGGY.  No,  no,  dear.  Tom  would  have  brought 
you  here  to  us. 

SYLVIA.  Oh,  then  you  did  arrange  it  all?  Don't 
you  think,  for  a  new  member  of  this  family,  you 
were  taking  a  good  deal  on  yourself  to — 

JEFFREY.  Come,  come,  Sylvia;  it  was  I  who  got 
Tom  Gibbs  on  the  wire.  You  should  be  very  grate 
ful  to  Peggy  and  her  brother.  God  knows  we  are. 

SYLVIA.     (Turning  upon  him)     I'm  not.     What 


TOO          THE   FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

right  has  she — what  right  have  any  of  you — to  butt 
in  on  my  affairs? 

NANCY.    Why,  my  dear,  we  all  love  you. 

SYLVIA.  You  acted  like  it,  didn't  you  ?  What  have 
you  all  got  against  Dudley? 

ALAN.  Sylvia,  I've  told  you  that  he  was  an  em 
bezzler,  and  that  his  only  idea  in  marrying  you  was 
to  use  you  to  prevent  mother  prosecuting  him. 

SYLVIA.  That's  what  you  say.  Mother,  has  Dud 
ley  taken  any  money  from  you  ? 

NANCY.    No. 

SYLVIA.    Well,  Alan,  mother  ought  to  know. 

ALAN.  He  confessed  that  he  was  short  in  his  ac 
counts. 

SYLVIA.    I  didn't  hear  him. 

ALAN.  You  weren't  there  when  he  was  begging 
Gibbs  to  let  him  go. 

SYLVIA.  No.  I  was  being  made  conspicuous, 
seated  on  a  bench  on  the  platform  between  two  offi 
cers.  Oh,  I'll  never  forget  it !  (She  puts  her  hands 
to  her  face  as  though  to  shut  out  the  memory.  Mo 
mentarily  her  spirit  is  broken.) 

NANCY.     (Whispering)    Jeff,  go  to  her  now. 

JEFFREY.  (Going  to  SYLVIA)  I  am  sorry,  dear, 
that  all  this  had  to  happen — that  you  feel  we've  all 
conspired  to  disgrace  you.  But  we  were  only  trying 
to  protect  you. 

SYLVIA.  Protect  me?  If  you  wanted  to  protect 
me,  why  wait?  You  knew  that  I  was  going  about 
with  him. 

NANCY.  But,  Sylvia,  dear,  your  father  didn't 
realize  the  sort  of  friends  that  Mr.  Gillette  had — 
introduced 

SYLVIA.  He  introduced  me  to  the  only  friends  he 
had.  What  do  you  know  about  them?  You  never 
met  them. 

JEFFREY.  Sylvia,  I  forbid  you  to  use  that  tone  to 
your  mother. 


THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR  101 

NANCY.  Sylvia  is  right,  Jeff.  I  judged  them 
solely  by  what  she  told  me  of  them. 

SYLVIA.  And  while  you  were  judging  you  passed 
sentence  on  Dudley,  too,  didn't  you?  You  forbade 
my  best  friend  seeing  me  again. 

JEFFREY.    Your  mother  had  every  right  to  do  that. 

SYLVIA.  She  had  no  right  to  make  him  feel  that 
he  wasn't  fit  to  associate  with  me,  when  it  was  she 
who  introduced  him  to  me. 

JEFFREY.  She  did  not  know  that  you  were  asso 
ciating  with  him  so  intimately. 

SYLVIA.     No.     She  wasn't  here,  was  she? 

NANCY.    No,  Sylvia,  I  wasn't  here. 

JEFFREY.  But  I  was.  I'm  to  blame.  I  should 
have  watched  over  you. 

SYLVIA.  But  you  didn't  care  what  I  was  doing, 
where  I  was  going,  just  so  you  were  free  to  run 
around  with  Mrs.  Brice. 

(JEFFREY  flinches  as  though  he  had  been  struck.) 

NANCY.  Sylvia,  how  dare  you  talk  like  that  to 
your  father? 

ALAN.  Haven't  you  any  respect?  Haven't  you 
any  feeling?  Can't  you  see  that  you  are  hurting 
father  and  mother  cruelly? 

SYLVIA.    Well,  haven't  they  hurt  me? 

ALAN.  (Indignantly)  Hurt  you !  You  ought  to 
be  down  on  your  knees,  thanking  them  for  saving 
you  from  a  marriage 

SYLVIA.  Were  you  worrying  about  how  cruelly 
you  hurt  mother  when  you  told  her  about  Peggy? 
Would  you  have  been  on  your  knees  thanking  them 
if  they  had  tried  to  save  you  from  marrying  her? 

JEFFREY.  Stop,  Sylvia!  How  can  you?  If  it 
hadn't  been  for  Peggy 

SYLVIA.    I  wouldn't  have  had  to  stand  all  this. 


102          THE  FAMOUS   MRS.    FAIR 

ALAN.  You  don't  think  it's  pleasant  for  us,  do 
you? 

SYLVIA.    There's  an  easy  way  of  stopping  it. 

JEFFREY.    How  ? 

SYLVIA.  (Hysterically)  Let  me  get  out  of  here. 
(She  makes  a  rush  for  the  door.  ALAN  stops  her.) 

JEFFREY.    Where  do  you  want  to  go  ? 

SYLVIA.  (Jerking  herself  away  from  ALAN^  Any 
where  away  from  all  of  you!  Why  am  I  dragged 
back  here,  where  nobody  loves  me,  wants  me  ?  (She 
throws  herself  in  the  armchair  at  the  table,  sobbing 
wildly.) 

NANCY.    Your  father  loves  you,  wants  you. 

SYLVIA.  A  lot  he  loves  me!  He  loves  Angy 
Brice. 

ALAN.    Who  told  you  this  damn  lie  ? 

SYLVIA.  (Sobbing)  It's  not  a  lie.  Everybody 
has  known  but  us  that  he  was  going  to  get  rid  of 
mother  and  marry  Angy. 

ALAN.    Dad — my  God! — this  isn't  true? 

SYLVIA.  (Rising)  It  is  true.  Mother,  aren't  you 
going  to  leave  Daddy? 

(There  is  a  pause.  SYLVIA,  ALAN  and  PEGGY  are 
waiting  for  the  answer.  JEFFREY  stands  with 
bowed  head.) 

NANCY.     No. 

JEFFREY.  (Turning,  makes  an  effort  to  speak,  and 
finally  articulates)  Nancy!  (Then,  overcome,  he 
turns  away  to  the  window.) 

SYLVIA."  (Going  to  NANCY)  Why,  Dudley  said — 
That's  why  I  went  away  with  him.  I  didn't  know 
what  would  become  of  me  when  you  separated.  I 
thought  my  daddy  had  gone  back  on  me. 

(NANCY  folds  her  in  her  arms,  kissing  her.     JEF 
FREY  comes  to  them.) 


THE  FAMOUS   MRS.  FAIR          103 

JEFFREY.  Your  daddy  will  never  go  back  on  you, 
if  you  will  only 

NANCY.  Jeff,  don't  make  conditions ;  we've  both 
been  wrong.  We  must  be  content  with  whatever 
Sylvia  wants. 

SYLVIA.    I  only  want  you  all  to  want  me. 

NANCY.    Oh,  my  dear !  my  dear ! 

PEGGY.    (Snivelling)    Alan,  where  is  Gillette? 

ALAN.  In  an  ambulance.  (He  smiles  and  shows 
his  clenched  fist.) 


THE  END 


POtLYANNA 


r<The  glad  play/'  in  3  acts.  By  Catherine  Chisholnt 
Cashing.  Based  on  the  novel  by  Eleanor  H.  Porter.  5 
males,  6  females.  2  interiors.  Costumes,  modern.  Plays 
2%  hours. 

The  story  has  to  do  with  the  experiences  of  an  orphan  girl 
•who  is  thrust,  unwelcome,  into  the  home  of  a  maiden  aunt.  In 
spite  of  the  tribulations  that  beset  her  life  she  manages  to  find 
something  to  be  glad  about,  and  brings  light  into  sunless  lives. 
Finally,  Pollyanna  straightens  out  the  love  affairs  of  her  elders, 
and  last,  but  not  least,  finds  happiness  for  herself  in  the  heart 
of  Jimmy.  "Pollyanna"  is  a  glad  play  and  one  which  is  bound 
to  give  one  &>  better  appreciation  of  people  and  the  world.  It 
reflects  the  humor,  tenderness  and  humanity  that  gave  the  story 
such  wonderful  popularity  among  young  and  old. 

Produced  at  the  Hudson  Theatre,  New  York,  and  for  two  sea^ 
eons  on  tour,  by  George  0.  Tyler,  with  Helen  Hayes  in  the  part 
of  "Pollyanna."  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  76  Cents. 


THE  CHARM  SCHOOL 

A  comedy  in  3  acts.  By  Alice  Duer  Miller  and  Bober% 
Milton.  6  males,  10  females  (may  be  played  by  5  males 
and  8  females).  Any  number  of  school  girls  may  be  used 
in  the  ensembles.  Scenes,  2  interiors.  Modern  costranea 
Plays  2%  hours. 

The  story  of  "The  Charm  School"  is  familiar  to  Mrs.  Miller  *• 
readers.  It  relates  the  adventures  of  a  handsome  young  auto* 
mobile  salesman,  scarcely  out  of  his  'teens,  who,  upon  inheriting 
a  girls'  boarding-school  from  a  maiden  aunt,  insists  on  running  it 
himself,  according  to  his  own  ideas,  chief  of  which  is,  by  th$ 
way,  that  the  dominant  feature  in  the  education  of  the  young 
girls  of  to-day  should  be  CHARM.  The  situations  that  arise  are> 
teeming  with  humor — clean,  wholesome  humor.  In  the  end  tho 
young  man  gives  up  the  school,  and  promises  to  wait  until  the 
most  precocious  of  his  pupils  reaches  a  marriageable  age.  The 
play  has  the  freshness  of  youth,  the  inspiration  of  an  extravagant 
but  novel  idea,  the  charm  of  originality,  and  the  promise  of  whole 
some,  sanely  amusing,  pleasant  entertainment.  We  strongly  ree» 
oxnmend  it  for  high  school  production.  It  was  first  produced  at 
the  Bijou  Theatre,  New  York,  then  toured  the  country.  Two 
companies  are  now  playing  it  in  England.  (Royalty,  twenty-five 
dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 

SAMCTEL  FBENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
Oar   N«w   Catalogue  Will  Be  Sent   on  Receipt   of   Five   Cent*. 


ARE  YOU  A  MASON? 

farce  in  3  acts.  By  Leo  Ditrichstein.  7  males,  7  $e* 
aiales.  Modern  costumes.  Plays  2*4  hours.  1  interior. 

"Are  You  a  Mason?"  is  one  of  those  delightful  farces  like 
"Charley's  Aunt"  that  are  always  fresh.  "A  mother  and  a 
daughter,"  says  the  critic  of  the  New  York  Herald,  "had  hus 
bands  who  account  for  absences  ^from  the  joint  household  on. 
frequent  evenings,  falsely  pretending  to  be  Masons.  The  men 
do  not  know  te^ch  other's  duplicity,  and  each  tells  his  wife  of 
having  advanced  to  leadership  in  his  lodge.  The  older  woman 
was  so  well  pleased  with  her  husband's  supposed  distinction  in 
the  order  that  she  made  him  promise  to  put  up  the  name  of  a 
visiting  triend  for  membership.  Further  .perplexity  over  the 
principal  liar  arose  when  a  suitor  for  his  second  daughter's  hand 
proved  to  be  a  real  Mason.  ...  To  tell  the  story  of  the  play 
would  require  volumes,  its  complications  are  so  numerous.  It  if 
a  house  of  cards.  One  card  wrongly  placed  and  the  whole  thing 
would  -collapse.  But  it  stands,  an  example  of  remarkable  in° 
genuity.  You  wonder  at  the  end  of  the  first  act  how  the  fua 
can  be  kept  up  on  such  a  slender  foundation.  But  it  continues 
and  grows  to  the  last  curtain."  One  of  the  most  hilariously 
amusing  farces  ever  written,  especially  suited  to  schools  and 
Masonic  Lodges.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  7ft 


KEMPY 

A  delightful  comedy  in  3  acts.  By  ^.0.  Nugent  «*n<$ 
Elliott  Nugent.  4  males,  4  females.  1  interior  throughout, 
Costumes,  modern.  Plays  2%  hours. 

Wo  wonder  "Kempy"  has  been  such  a  tremendous  hit  in  New 
*ork,  Chicago — wherever  it  has  played.  It  snaps  with  wit  and 
numor  of  the  most  delightful  kind.  It's  electric.  It's  small" 
Sown  folk  perfectly  pictured.  Full  of  types  of  varied  sorts,  each 
one  done  to  a  turn  and  served  with  zestful  sauce.  An  ideal 
entertainment  for  amusement  purposes.  The  story  is  about  a  high- 
falutin'  daughter  who  in  a  fit  of  pique  marries  the  young  plumber- 
architect,  who  comp-  to  fix  the  water  pipes,  just  because  he 
"understands"  he  Aaving  read  her  book  and  having  sworn  to 
marry  the  authoress.  But  in  that  story  lies  all  the  humor  that 
hept  the  audience  laughing  every  second  of  every  act.  Of  course 
there  are  lots  of  ramifications,  each  of  which  bears  its  own  brand 
of  laughter-making  potentials.  But  the  plot  and  the  story  are 
not  the  main  things.  There  is,  for  instance,  the  work  of  the 
company.  The  fun  growing  out  of  this  family  mixup  is  lively  and 
clean.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 

8  \MUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
Our    New    Catalogue    Will    Be    Sent    on    Ueceipt    of    Five    Cent*. 


FRENCH'S 
Standard  Library  Edition 


George   M.   Cohaa 
Winchell    Smith 
Booth    Tarkington 
Wiiiiam   Gillette 
Frank   Craven 
Owen    Davis 
Austin    Strong 
A.  A.  Milne 
Harriet  Ford 
Paul  Green 
James  Montgomery 
Arthur    Richman 
Philip  Barry 
George   Middletoa 
Chanuing    Pollock 
George   Kaufman 
Martin   Flavin 
Victor  Mapes 
Kate  Douglas 
Rida    Johnson    Young 
Margaret    Mayo 
Roi  Cooper  Megrue 
Jean  Webster 
George    Broadhurst 
George  Hobart 
Frederick   S.    ifhatt 
Fred    Ballard 
Percy    MacKaye 
Willard    Mack 
Jerome  K.  Jerome 
R.  C.  Carton 
William  Cary   Duncan 
Sir  Arthur  Conan  Doyle 


Includes  Play*  by 

Augustus   Thomas 
Rachel  Crothers 
W.  W.  Jacobs 
Ernest   Denny 
Kenyon    Nicholson 
Aaron    Hoffman 
H.  V.  Esmond 
Edgar  Selwyn 
Laurence  flousman 
Israel    Zangwill 
Waiter  Hackett 
A.  E.  Thomas 
Edna   Ferber 
John  Henry   At  ears 
Mark  Swan 
John    B.    Stapleton 
Frederick    LonsdaR 
Bryon  Onjfley 
Rex   Beach 
Paul  Armstrong 
H.   A.    Du   Souchet 
George   Ade 
J.  Hartley   Manners 
Barry    Conners 
Edith  Ellis 
Harold    Brighouse 
Harvey    J.    O'Miggiit* 
Clare   Kumnier 
James  Forbes 
William    C.    DeMille 
1'hompson   Buchanan 
C.    ritddon    Chambers 
Rioljard  Harding  Davis 


George   Kelly 
Louis  N.  Parker 
Anthony  Hope 
Lewis  Beacb 
Guy   Bolton 
Edward    E.    Rose 
Marc  Connelly 
Frederick   Pa  Hiding 
Lynn   Starling 
Clyde  Fitch 
Earl   Derr   Bigger* 
Thomas   Broadhurs* 
Charles   Klein 
Bayard  Veiller 
Grace  L.   Furnlss 
Martha    Morton 
Robert   Housum 
Carlisle  Moore 
Salisbury    Field 
Leo   Dietrichstein 
Harry  James  Smith 
Eden  Phiilputts 
Brandoa  Tynan 
Clayton   Hamilton 
Edward  Sheldon 
Richard  Ganthony 
Julie  Lippman 
Paul   Diekey 
Frank  Bacon 
Edward  Paulton 
Adelaide   Matthew* 
A.  K.  W.  Mason 
CCUMHO  Gordon-Lennox 


Catherine  Chisholm  Cashing  J.  C.  and  Elliott  Nflgent 
Edward  Childs  Carpenter  Justin  Huntley  McCarthy 
Madeline  Lucette  Ryley  Joseph K  Peabody 

French's    International    Copyrighted    Edition    contain*    plays,    comedle- 

and  farces  ef  international  reputation;  also  recent  professional  successes 

by    famous    American    and    English    Author*. 

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describing  thousands  of  plays. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH 

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